


Reflets dans l'eau

by DarkmoonSigel



Series: The Notes Played In Between [13]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Chilton is still a douche, Creature Fic, Franklin - Freeform, Hannibal is still a cannibal though, M/M, There is a surprise ending to this story., but only for a hot second, cook hannibal, merman will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2017-12-17 14:15:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkmoonSigel/pseuds/DarkmoonSigel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Creature fic with Merman Will and cook Hannibal.<br/>The chef of the secret restaurant that serves up the supernatural for dinner gets its newest course. Will Hannibal filet up the merman for his dinner party? Or will something else happen?<br/>Not Beta Read</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Reflets dans l'eau was composed by Claude Debussy. It is one of the many pieces he wrote about water.
> 
> I'm not a huge fan of creature fics but this story was rattling around in my head. I don't like pissing off my muse when I'm gifted with an idea. This series is supposed to be centered around one shots but I'm willing to make an exception in this case. Let me know if you want to see its continuation.
> 
> Not Beta Read
> 
> btw, Savoureux is French for tasty, delicious, delectable......or so the internet tells me

If one knows where to look and has the proper connections to the right people, even the improbable and the impossible can be found given enough time, energy and of course, money. Case in point was Savoureux.

Hidden in the richer part of Baltimore’s suburbia, Savoureux was such a highly unlikely thing, a tiny restaurant of one table that could seat eight patrons very comfortably. Unlike most of its more normal competition, it didn’t need to be big, the micro sized restaurant solely catering to the very rich and the very elite by invite only. It was the kind of secret affairs that selfish socialites would sign away their first born away for even a chance to dine or be seen in. Known by all of the upper crust but only spoken about in whispers and rumors, clandestine dinner parties were held once a month for a select few. Everyone paid in full before the first bite was even taken and no one ever left disappointed. 

What made this strange eatery so unique and so rarified was what it served. 

Filet of unicorn drizzled with a champagne beurre blanc sauce, Baku Szechuan served over lotus and jasmine rice, and Centaur steak tartare topped with phoenix’s eggs, capers, and sweet onions were only some of the dishes featured on the menu and were never repeated. The owner and chef was quite firm about the rule, Hannibal Lecter being a perfectionist as well as an artist. In his mind, each carefully planned dinner was a feast, the man putting all his skill and inspiration into its construction. 

Unfortunately having such an unique business did have its downsides, namely the suppliers of his courses. Dr. Frederick Chilton was the living embodiment of this, the oily little man showing his ass once again to Hannibal while in his kitchen as he unsubtly fished for a diner invitation. 

“Frederick, we have been over this many times before. As I have explained, I have a waiting list, one that you are upon, but it is booked for years.” Hannibal admonished with a blatant lie, not even bothering to look up from the shallots he was mincing. When Chilton began making irritating little noises in argument, Hannibal took a moment to remind himself that despite the nuisance the doctor made of himself, he actually was quite useful and had an almost disturbing knack for finding the lost, the forgotten, and the disbelieved in. Most of Hannibal’s dishes came from what Chilton rediscovered and hunted down for him. 

“I have something for you this time that will have you making an exception in this case.” Chilton said confidently, looking seedier than usual and too well pleased with life for anyone else’s good. Hannibal mused to himself that the buffoon looked more like a used car salesman than an accredited, globe trotting doctor of cryptozoology. Appearances were deceived though. Hannibal knew that intimately, keeping his mask of polite normalcy in place as Chilton signaled his lackeys to roll in a tank. As diversified as his menus were, his own personal choice of preferred meat was still considered more disturbing than adventurous. 

As far as cages went, it was as ugly as it was bizarre, looking made entirely of thick glass, the large panels of which were held together in a frame of blackened iron that was rusting bright orange in spots. The box of glass looked like it opened up from the top with iron bar paneling circling around it, allowing limited access to the water‘s surface. It was essentially a very large, slapped together fish tank that could barely fit through Hannibal’s entrance, the top of it scraping up all of Hannibal’s doorframes in passing.

Beneath that bolted circumvented top, the tank was filled with water so filthy it was near opaque in clarity, the foul smelling salt water making Hannibal’s nose wrinkle with disgust and the man cringe as he watched the refuse slop all over his pristine tiled floors. Hannibal’s kitchen was quite large, even more well spaced than most retail restaurants, but the tank still took up the better part of the back wall, blocking access to the stairs that led up to the second landing.

So far, Hannibal was not impressed with Chilton’s offering. He would have to strip these floors now to get that odor of ruined salt, mold, and rot out of its grout. Hannibal’s sense of smell was better than most and right now, it was working overtime to give him a migraine and a sour stomach. He tried not to think about the lackey’s path through the rest of the house and his more than likely drenched hardwood floors. They would have brought this in through the back which meant that his showroom of a dining area was befouled as well. 

“….So what do you think?” was asked by Chilton, making Hannibal realize he had missed the entire explanation for this olfactory abomination and desecration of his home. 

“Apologies, Frederick, but I fear you will have to repeat yourself.” Hannibal said, resisting the urge to smother his nose in a dishtowel or disembowel Chilton. The choice between either temptation was a toss up at this point.

“Foul isn’t it?” Chilton grinned, nasty little man that he was, taking pleasure in other people’s discomfort. Hannibal began to seriously reevaluate the man’s worth to him. “Wait until you see it though.”

“Enough theatrics. I am beginning to lose my patience.” Hannibal warned, lowering his tone just enough to hint at the monster that resided inside of him. To him amusement, Chilton openly shuddered, trying to cover it and failing by waving Hannibal over to the tank. The cook was remiss to approach but curiosity won out over discomfort in the end.

“What is it?” Hannibal asked, trying to peer through the glass. Silt and other sediment of the organic variety made it nearly impossible though. He could barely make out the lump of something curled up in the middle, covering in floating bits of foulness. Hannibal wasn’t about to press his face up to the glass for a better look so he turned to Chilton for an explanation. The man gestured for a moment’s patience, pulling out a cattle prong from his coat. Reaching up carefully as to not make contact with the metal, he passed it through the iron bars to touch the water’s surface.

Reaction was immediate, the creature within slamming itself against the tempered glass in response. To Hannibal’s chagrin as he dodged a wave’s onslaught, its pained abrupt movements dumped more foulness onto the cook’s floors. Hannibal was able to make out a long scaled tail that was attached to a very human like torso. The merman’s face remained unseen though, his hair like a tangle of ragged seaweed that shrouded his head, obscuring it even as he flailed. The merman fell back to the bottom of the tank with an almost audible thud when Chilton turned off the current. 

“So what do you think?” Chilton asked with the excitement of a man about to get what he always wanted. Hannibal was more than pleased to ruined that absurd notion.

“I am hardly impressed by a half dead merman.” Hannibal arched a brow at Chilton in passing, the cook falling back to the fresher smelling part of his kitchen.

“B-but….” Chilton stammered, following closely behind much to Hannibal‘s distaste.

“I will also remind you that merkind’s flesh is toxic for human consumption.” Hannibal continued, ignoring the other man’s protests. “I prefer my dinner guests to be alive after they eat my food. It‘s better for business that way.”

“That’s not entire true!” Chilton protested.

“That I don’t prefer live customers?” Hannibal said. Chilton looked less than appreciative about the cook’s dry humor.

“No, that mermaid’s or in this case, merman’s flesh is poisonous . There is more than a few legends that state that it can grant immortality.” Chilton was grasping for straws and they both knew it. Chilton was finally realizing that his golden ticket was actually a white elephant, and he wasn’t taking the discovery well as he tried to pawn it off in a vain attempt to get paid. 

“Then feel free to cook it up for yourself. I suggest pairing it with a dry white wine. It should offset the taste of deadly toxins nicely. ” Hannibal shrugged, done with this entire conversation. He had been in such a good mood, experimenting with some new butter sauces, doing fascinating things with pearl onions and shallots, and even contemplating a new dessert made from angel’s feathers. Now his immaculate kitchen smelled like a toilet and the rest of the day would be wasted getting to know the working end of a bottle of bleach better.

“Do you know how dangerous this beast was to catch? How many men lost their lives to do so?!” Chilton tried for emotional blackmail, Hannibal almost feeling embarrassed for him at the clumsy attempt. 

“No and no.” Hannibal answered bluntly as he glared down at the sauces that had broken and ruined themselves in his absence. He would have to add cleaning up to his to-do list as well. “And I do not care. I pay ridiculous amounts of money for services rendered, and you and your men are well aware of the risks. You can not expect interest or compensation when you have failed to produce anything I can work with. ”

“Well, think about the challenge then!” Chilton said, starting to sound desperate as he switched tactics since wounded pride and indignation wasn’t working for him. “You could be the first….”

Hannibal ignored the rest of Chilton’s fumbled pleading. Loathe as he was to admit it, the man had a point. Hannibal did so love a challenge, especially one that was culinary, his extensive mind already whirling with various cooking technique and spices that might negate the murderous flesh of the merman. Sighing, he waved Chilton into silence, the man‘s prattling starting to get on his last nerve. 

“Fine. Leave it.” Hannibal glared at the tank. His tasks for today just kept mounting and none of them were enjoyable. 

“And my invitation?” Chilton ventured, his tentative look hopeful. Credit had to be given where credit was due, Chilton was nothing if not a tenacious bastard.

“I will consider it.” Hannibal said, his glare making Chilton scuttle out of his sight, slamming the door behind him in his haste to escape. Hannibal took his time as he finished cleaning his counters, and pots and pans before returning to the cage that was more cesspit than fishbowl, the cook evaluating his options about it.

The word fishbowl sparked epiphany, Hannibal considering the tank with new eyes. It was built to be unbreakable and obviously not leak, but where was the filtration system for it? All fault lay with Chilton and his team for this mishap in oversight, the fools having basically filled a bowl with salt water with no means of cleansing itself after the fish was added, leaving the poor thing to choke on its own refuse and suffocate on recycled water stripped of its oxygen. Hannibal could only reason that the merman was still alive because the legends were true about his kind having both lungs and gills. 

It took some time but eventually Hannibal assembled a series of tanks he used to keep more mundane fare such as live squids and lobsters fresh for the cooking pot. Woven between the bars at the top, tubing drained the foulness out of the tank and down his spare sink. Other piping pumped fresh salt water into it out from the other tanks, filtering and filling it before it was directed back in loop. It looked messy, complicated, and inelegant but there was nothing Hannibal could do about that right now. While the water cycled through, Hannibal kept himself busy cleaning his floors. By the time he was satisfied and not a trace of odor remained, he was greeted by a crystal clear view of the tank and its contents.

The merman lay at the bottom of the tank, his long tail curled tightly about him so Hannibal could only see scaled coils with some errant floating locks of dark hair sticking out and a bit of skin here and there. A cloudy film covered the merman‘s scales and fins making them look dull and unremarkable, their murky color being anything from a worn indigo blue to a tattered black. As Hannibal watched though, the artificial current produced from the makeshift filtration system was slowly removing the sickness, mucous bits of ick peeling off to float away like a flurry of plague snow. 

Satisfied that merman was copasetic for the time being and might actually live until morning, Hannibal called it a day and went to bed.

TBC?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of the merman Will/chef Hannibal AU  
> Why? Cause I can.   
> 'does a dance'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All info provided by Wiki- I don't own it-
> 
> The kelpie is a supernatural water horse from Celtic folklore that is believed to haunt the rivers and lochs of Scotland and Ireland
> 
> Selkies (also known as silkies or selchies) are mythological creatures found in Faroese, Icelandic, Irish, and Scottish folklore. The word derives from earlier Scots selich, (from Old English seolh meaning seal). Selkies are said to live as seals in the sea but shed their skin to become human on land. The legend is apparently most common in Orkney and Shetland[4] and is very similar to those of swan maidens[

“Where am I?”

A simple question but one that surprised Hannibal as he foamed milk for his cappuccino. He didn’t care much for surprises especially ones that talked. Covering his reaction by spooning out the foam with special care, Hannibal never let on that he had been caught unaware, having put the merman in the back of his mind in favor of breakfast and his first cappuccino of the day. Finishing his task, Hannibal turned to face the inquiry. A lesser man would have dropped his coffee cup at the sight that greeted him.

Light filtered in through the bay windows making the water shimmer ethereal and metallic. It bathed the merman in almost as otherworldly glow, picking out the hidden accents of gold and silver in his scales. Unfurled, the merman would have stood at average height if he were human. It was his fins that made him appear so much larger, webbed barbs like strange wings that had laid flat against his back while in repose were now extended, trailing vivid color around and behind him. Cleaned off by the filtered water, Hannibal could see now that the merman’s scales were a blended pattern of gemlike violet, deep sapphire, and glittering black. His tail and other extremities seemed carved from black pinfire opal, the creature a strange yet beautifully balanced mixture of human and lionfish.

The merman torso looked fairly human enough though his fingers were tipped with black up to his knuckles, the pad of his fingers looking barbed. The skin was paler than most, but Hannibal assumed that was only natural for a being who spent the majority of its life underneath the water. Wavy hair made a dark halo around the merman’s face, shifting weightlessly all about him. It was shorter than Hannibal would have expected, considering a great number of details about merfolk were centered around their hair. 

The visage staring back at Hannibal could only be describe in terms of the Renaissance masters. The being could have easily been a model or even the inspiration for any sculptor or painter, his form and face fair enough to be carved into marble or grace any canvas’s surface. Large soulful eyes stared out but not directly at Hannibal, their color a mixture of gray brooding storm and the blue of clear sea.

With a flick of his tail, the merman breached the surface of his small enclosure. He pressed himself as close as he could to the bars without actually touching them, confirming that merfolk was weak and vulnerable in the presence of iron. Hannibal was almost impressed with Chilton, the cage’s design quite clever in that aspect. The cook uncharitably wondered who had actually come up with the idea for it.

“Where am I?” the merman asked again, his voice a wavering thing, soft and sad in nature. Hannibal had been expecting something far sweeter in tone but he supposed not all legends were true. 

“It is 6:35am. You are in Baltimore, Maryland.” Hannibal told him, taking a moment to savor his coffee while the merman processed his words, the creature seeming to understand and speak English well enough. “My name is Hannibal Lector and you are in my kitchen.”

At this introduction. the merman’s face filled with fear, his eyes going wide and white rimmed. “Oh gods, you’re that cook.” the merman said before sinking lifelessly to the bottom of his tank to curl up tight once again into a ball of scales. Hannibal watched him, quietly cursing Chilton in his head. He hadn’t expected the merman of being able to talk, much less make intelligent conversation. Legend and myth presented them as monsters that lured sailors to their death with song and pheromones, much like sharks that could sing and smelled nice. Descriptions of their intelligence varied from culture to culture, portrayed in one telling as a mindless fish in the guise of half humans to intelligent conversationalists who played mind games with humans before drowning them for pleasure. 

Hannibal found himself wondering how much fell into the middle of that. A glittering obsidian killer of the sea, the merman had all the marking of a predator, his form lithe and streamlined for speed, his hands tipped with poison, his teeth serrated like sharks for tearing, and the razor like barbs that extended from his spine, running down the length of it to his tail, were no doubt another weapon at his disposal. 

From the merman’s reaction, Chilton had obviously told him quite a bit about Hannibal. The cook walked over to the tank, coffee in hand to study the merman hiding himself in plain sight. From what Hannibal had seen, the creature was thin, the brief full view of it presenting ribs that protruded too far out and a belly that concaved too much in, showing off more skin and bone than corded muscle for the cook‘s liking. Hannibal wondered when was the last time the merman had eaten or if that fool Chilton had even attempted to feed it. It was also likely the merman had refused to take in nourishment all together after it had been informed it was destined to be someone’s dinner. 

Hannibal tapped the glass to get the merman’s attention, immediately regretting it as the creature reacted as if struck, its hands flying up to clutch at its head, obviously in pain. Hannibal held out his hands in apology before gesturing at the merman to surface so that they could speak. The answering glare told Hannibal that the merman was considering rejection. After a moment of internal debate, the creature surfacing with a grimace. 

“What is your name?” Hannibal asked as soon as the merman’s head broke surface. 

“It doesn’t translate into your language and why should I tell you it anyway?” the merman snapped, looking confused by the question. Hannibal took another second to curse Chilton’s existence and blatant mishandling. Fear was making the merman rude and Hannibal had little patience with such things. Allowances could be made though, given the situation. 

“Because I have given you my name and it is polite in human society to return the favor. We could socialize like adults. God forbid we become friendly with one another.” Hannibal said. 

“I am not all that interested in becoming friendly with someone who is planning to eat me.” the merman said coldly, his tail slapping against the side of the tank. Hannibal took a step back to avoid the resulting spray of water, reminding himself to invest in a wetvac. 

“It might dissuade me to do otherwise.” Hannibal pointed out as he retrieved a mop. He was a fair man. He had every intention of carving up this merman unless it proved itself otherwise. If it provided something greater than the challenge of figuring out how to consume its flesh safely, then Hannibal would allow the creature to live. 

The merman was silent for a long drawn out moment, his angelic face falling into contained ruin. “So you can delight in hearing me beg for my life or make the water turn sharp again for your amusement when I refuse? I think I‘ve degraded myself enough for your kind.” the creature hissed. Hannibal decided that Chilton was indeed losing merit with him. His murder was quickly becoming an assured thing. 

“I can not promise to refrain from hurting you since my future plans for your meat contradict this but I am willing to compromise. I will not harm you for refusing to answer questions. In fairness, if you decide to answer my questions in an honest and timely manner, I will return the favor. Quid pro quo.” Hannibal offered, finished with his task but left the mop out. He had a feeling that it would be in use again soon. “So tell me, what is your name?”

A series of harsh clicking and shrill screeching assaulted Hannibal’s ears in answer, the merman smirking at the cook’s flinch. “I told you that it didn’t translate.” the merman chuckled, flicking more water out of the tank. 

“Please stop doing that.” Hannibal sighed, retrieving the mop. When the merman’s body language took on a rebellious tone, one that promised more moisture, he added, “Or else I will be forced to drain the tank. If you find your prison uncomfortable now, it will be even more so with only a few feet of water for you to swim in. I would prefer not to, but if you keep making yourself an inconvenience, I will be forced to be an unpleasant host.”

“Do you always eat your ‘guests’?” the merman said bitterly but refrained from moving too abruptly about.

“Only the rude ones.” Hannibal grinned, letting his mask fall away a bit. The merman’s barbs rose up in answer to the unspoken threat, confirming that they were used for offense as well as defense. Hannibal was one to truly appreciate a well constructed predator. 

“If you do not terribly mind, I will call you William or Will for short.” Hannibal said after a moment of consideration. The merman looked like a writer’s muse with his half lidded eyes, thick lashes, and pouting melancholy expression, so on a whim Hannibal named him after Shakespeare.

The merman snorted, the sound a mingled verse of disgust and amusement tinged with disbelief at his lot in life. “Why should I mind? It’s the least of my problems.”

“Are you hungry?” Hannibal asked even as he nodded to the truth of the merman’s statement. He found himself pleased at Will’s perspective. 

“Are you planning on fattening me up?” Will snapped, his arms moving to wrap themselves around the minor expanse of his tapered waist. 

“It’s rude to answer a question with a question.” Hannibal said lightly, giving the merman a pointed look and a chance to redeem himself.

“Yes.” Will sighed in defeat. “But there is nothing that you can give me or would be willing to.”

“You are only putting off the inevitable, you know. There is more than enough filet on you to make a meal, at least part of one. I had been considering something with a maritime feel for a while now.” Hannibal said, looking Will over, reassessing what he had to offer. If he couldn’t flesh out the merman, he could always flesh out the meal with other water themed dishes. He hadn’t had a chance to serve Kelpie or Selkie yet. Regrettably Kraken had already graced his table.

With that revelation, the merman seemed to have a panic attack, Will slipping back beneath the water’s surface to sink like a rock to the bottom. There he twisted himself back up into a defensive ball of scales and protruding barbs.

Hannibal let him, leaving the merman to have his episode in private with a departing smile.

oOo  
TBC?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Still thinking about frying Will up as fish sticks. Not sure how I'm gonna end this one.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Franklin makes his debut appearance in this AU. Don't get attached.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.  
> Will shows some of his true colors in this story.

Attracting desperate crazy men seemed to be his lot in life Hannibal decided as his kitchen was plagued with yet another one of his suppliers, a roly poly man who went by the name of Franklin. Unlike Chilton who focused on larger game, he and his partner Tobias caught smaller fare for Hannibal, usually of the elven variety, keeping the cook well supplied with pixies, gnomes, and a wide assortment of sprites and fairies. 

Like Chilton, Franklin also wanted a place at Hannibal’s table but for different reasons entirely however. Hannibal reasoned whoever stated that imitation was the highest form of flattery had never had the misfortune of meeting Franklin, the man’s attire, manner, and hobbies patterned after Hannibal’s own. Unfortunately the result was a near comedic caricature of its source material that was more painfully embarrassing than amusing to witness.

“What can I do for you today, Franklin? I don’t believe that we had an appointment or that I am scheduled for a delivery having not placed an order with you.” Hannibal asked, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. He was beginning to get a headache. 

“Can’t I just pop in to say ‘hello’? Friends do that.” Franklin grinned, shifting his fluffy weight from one foot to another as he looked around Hannibal’s kitchen as if to memorize every detail about it. It wouldn’t surprise Hannibal in the least if he discovered that Franklin’s kitchen resembled his own. 

“Franklin, I am a customer and a source of fiscal stability for you. I am not your friend.” Hannibal corrected smoothly. He wanted to pour himself a glass of wine but as a good host would have to offer one to Franklin as well who would take the offer entirely in the wrong way. It would also only serve to prolong his stay. 

“Well that’s just one part of the relationship that we have. We can create more.” Hannibal reasoned that Franklin wouldn’t know difference between subtle or obvious if either bit him in the ass. ‘Not interested’ and ‘it’s never going to happen’ could tear off chunks of flesh as well with little acknowledgement. 

“Which entails that we keep it professional. If there is no point to this visit that pertains to a transaction, I must ask you to leave.” Hannibal said, realizing belated that he was speaking to an empty space of air. Franklin had removed himself from rejection entirely by wandering over to the tank. 

“Is that a merman?!” Franklin asked, staring wide eyed at Will who had been floating listlessly about letting the artificial current, slight as it was, push him about. Hannibal rolled his eyes at the idiotic question, the answer to it blatantly staring Franklin in the face with blue eyed interest. 

The merman was even thinner now, silently refusing all offers of food or attempts at conversation. Hannibal watched him waste away a little more each day, his skeleton standing out in stark relief within the confines of his skin and scales. Will looked no less magnificent in his starvation though, a sharp being carved from gold, silver, alabaster, and midnight opals. Hannibal was planning on making soup out of his carcass and garnishing the broth with delicately fried scaled strips from his tail for contrast. That was if he could ever figure out a safe way to do so. So far all of Hannibal’s research into countering the lethal effect of merman flesh had been inconclusive. 

Normally Hannibal would have already killed the creature to stop the detrimental processes of starvation upon the meat, but something about Will stayed his hand and made the cook wait. There was something in the way the merman looked at Hannibal, those expressive eyes full of suffering and misery that took in everything the chef wasn’t offering and absorbing into himself.

Such desires were paying off now as Will did something interesting. Rising up so that only his lips broke the surface, the merman began to sing. The notes were low pitched, making Hannibal feel the bass vibration of them down all the way to his insides and bones. The foreign words held a sweet melodic sound, the strange song saturated with a melancholy that made Hannibal ache with longing and loss, the kind of which he had never felt before. If he had not been so in control of his faculties, he might have begun to start moving closer to the source. 

The song was tempting though even to one such as Hannibal, lingering bitter sweetness caressing his skin to make it tingle, his nerves sparking with bizarre pleasure. Gripping the edge of the counter tight until his knuckles turned white from the effort to stay perfectly still, Hannibal watched as Franklin drew closer to the cage until his face was pressed up to the glass. Obviously that still wasn’t close enough for him, the rotund man bracing his foot against the ironwork of the cage, reaching for bars at the top to pull himself up. It was the moment the merman had been waiting for all along as fat fingers curled around iron, Franklin’s face popping into view to be eye level with the now grinning merman, his sharp serrated teeth on full view. 

Barbed fingers shot through the gaps in the bars to catch at Franklin’s clothing and flesh to punch through the material and the meat. Released from the song in time to feel pain, Franklin barely had the chance to scream as he was dragged through holes sized too small for him to pass through, at least not all of him. His left arm and the majority of his face made it through, dumping crimson against the side of tank in a heavy sheet, the water turning pink as the limb floated down to bottom off the tank. Franklin’s other arm was used to leverage his body up so that the merman could continue tearing holes into his torso, dragging back handfuls of meat that Will shoved into his mouth, feasting like a shark. Greedy and desperate for food, Franklin’s other arms soon followed, being rendered whole from it socket as it was dragged into the tank.

Hannibal was snapped out of his daze when Franklin’s corpse hit the tile to start bleeding out what was left of his insides all over his floors. The tank’s outside and contents was awash in blood, the water stirred up like a crimson sea as the merman frenzied and fed on what it had stolen.

Calmly, Hannibal pulled out a large blade he liked to dismantle bodies with, walking over to where Franklin had landed in a wet heap of ruined meat. He regarded Will intently, noting that the merman’s stomach was distended now from his rare, sudden meal. Still sucking some stubborn tendon from bone, the merman noticed Hannibal staring at him, Will having the grace to look embarrassed as he floated back up to the top of the tank.

“I’m sorry about your friend.” Will muttered much to Hannibal’s surprise. Will just kept on doing unexpected things. His empathy for the situation was amusing though misplaced.

“What are you apologizing for? Your inborn nature or his demise?” Hannibal asked, genuinely curious.

“Both?”

“I understand your words from before. I must ask though, why haven’t you used your gift until now?” Hannibal’s inquiry met with sullen silence. The cook filled the space with wet sounds, cutting Franklin apart into more manageable pieces. 

“I will allow you the entirety of your kill but you must do me the courtesy of answering my questions first.” Hannibal stated calmly, the underlying, quiet threat of deprivation speaking loudly enough for itself.

“The iron ruins most of it. My song only really works on the weak willed and simply minded now.” Will admitted.

“I am surprised Chilton is still walking among us then.” Hannibal said dryly. That got a bark of surprised laughter from Will despite himself. 

“Not for lack of trying, I assure you.” Will admitted with a rare smile. “His crew was surprisingly loyal or he just employs humans even stupider than himself. Whenever I surfaced, he would make the water turn sharp and too painful for me to stay awake so I had to stop trying.”

“A pity really.” Hannibal sighed.

“Yes, it is. I was looking forward to some revenge before my death.” Will said bitterly, the merman staring hungrily down at all that remained of Franklin. Hannibal lifted part of a thigh up on the tip of his blade to shove the meat through the gaps in the bars. He had noted the merman’s reach and speed of his attack as well as his reluctance to touch the iron, but Hannibal still kept his distance, not feeling the need to take any chances. He watched in fascination as Will dove after the meat, tearing off chucks of flesh and consuming meat, bone, and even clothing in quick, efficient bites. 

Hannibal wrapped up the rest of Franklin for later disposal, storing the man in his fridge, not wanting Will to overindulge and become sick. Even now the merman was curling up on the bottom of his tank in sated sleep, like a snake you had eaten too many mice.

Making a mental note to pick up more bleach, Hannibal went back to his countertop full of half chopped vegetables, strange notions playing about in his head and none of them about cooking. 

oOo

TBC?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sings loudly and off key -Under the sea! Under the sea! Darling it's better! Down where it's wetter! Take it from me!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wrote in and decided Will's fate. Enjoy. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal's cooking method for Will is from a story I read a long time ago that freaked me the fuck out for a long time and still kinda does. Interesting note, it's a story about cannibalism and definitely worth a read.
> 
> Gemma Files is a Canadian horror writer, journalist, and film critic. Her short story, "The Emperor's Old Bones", won the International Horror Guild Award for Best Short Story of 1999. Five of her short stories were adapted for the television series The Hunger. Look her up. :)

“What is that noise?”

Hannibal looked up from the heavy tome in his lap, the chef reading in the leather bound chair that resided in the far corner of his kitchen near the tank with an open bottle of fine dark red wine, a half full glass of it at his side. The air was filled with strains of music, melodic notes from a piano played by a somber hand, the very best of Beethoven lulled out from hidden speakers. 

“Classical music. It is about moonlight.” Hannibal told him, still reading. He had taken to spending a lot of his spare time in the kitchen, even more so than usual even when he wasn’t preparing anything. He tried not to think about the company that he was keeping while doing so. One should never grow fond of food, or so he told himself. 

“It’s beautiful.” Will admitted with a strained expression of regret, like the fact of anything human having merit hurt him. The merman was looking better, practically glowing with health now. He had been eating plenty the last couple of weeks, at first upon Franklin and then later on Tobias, the man less than pleased about his partner’s untimely demise. In Hannibal’s opinion, he should have taken it as a lucrative business opportunity. 

True, he would have to look for a new supplier of the fae but a father/daughter team from Minnesota were beginning to show some significant promise in that area. To his delight, the Hobbs had recently obtained a wendigo for Hannibal. Its antlers now graced Hannibal’s beautiful dining room. They had made for a very interesting conversational piece at his last dinner party.

Progress dealing with his floating future entrée had been slow, Will’s execution put off indefinitely at this point. Hannibal somehow couldn’t bring himself to feel too disappointed about it. Since the Franklin incident, Will had begun to talk to Hannibal more, their conversation short, stilted exchanges but still interesting. Hannibal found himself looking forward to mornings in particular, chatting with or at Will over his cappuccino and watching the play of morning light upon the merman’s black opal scales. He was beginning to understand why people invested so much time and money on aquariums. There was something oddly soothing about watching Will twist and turn effortlessly about in his liquid environment or for Hannibal to just simply study how Will’s fins and webbing unfurled and twisted about in the artificial current like strange banners of dark nebula silk.

He did that now, watching the lazy movements of Will’s tail as the merman float on his back upon the water’s surface, his hands folded neatly on top of his stomach. While in that relaxed position, the spines on his back that ran down his spine could fully extend having enough room to do so, looking like strange glittering wings looking made from tiny pieces of fire opals, sapphires, and amethyst laced together with silver and gold.

“Is your flesh really poisonous?” Hannibal asked, not wishing to ruin the mood between them but he hated not knowing the answers to questions staring him in the face.

“Why should I tell you? I enjoy the idea of killing humans who pay to eat me even after I’m dead.” Will admitted easily, turning his head to look down at the chef but other than that, not bothering to move. This was the only position he could fully stretch out in while in this prison. He was going to enjoy it while what Hannibal called classical music was playing. 

“Fair enough.” Hannibal nodded, “It is said that your meat can grant immortality as well though. Which is the truth?”

“Both and neither.” Will grinned, his ocean eyes glittering mischievously. 

“I thought we agreed to be honest with one another.” Hannibal’s own sanguine eyes narrowed.

“I am.” Will hummed along with the music. “It’s not my fault that you don’t believe me or understand what I’m telling you.”

“Stop that please.” Hannibal ordered, the merman’s melodic voice making his skin tingle pleasantly. It was only a mild sensation, Will not putting any magical intent or effort into the song, but Hannibal reasoned he couldn’t afford to become careless. That or addicted. 

Will frowned at human but acquiesced with a sigh. His pleasures were so few now, even his voice limited to him. “How are you going to cook me?” Will asked softly, low enough that Hannibal almost didn’t hear him. Will turned his head to stare down at the chef to find himself being deeply considered by the man. 

“When you were skin and bones, a bouillabaisse with strips of tail as garnish. Now that you have filled out, I was considering a dish called ‘The Emperor’s Old Bones’. It consists of me filleting your flesh all over so that it hangs off your body in strips. I would do this very carefully as to keep you alive during the entire process. In another life before I found my true calling, I used to be a surgeon so this would quite easy for me to do.” Hannibal said in neutral tones, watching as Will’s face became paler and paler with every passing second. “A large pot of boiling oil would stand ready and I would run hooks through your tail and into your armpits to lift you up over it. You would be dipped into the oil just far enough in it so that your hanging strips of flesh would cook. I would twist you about until you were evenly prepared on all sides. For the pièce de résistance, when you are done, I would lay you out on my table, perfectly cooked but still alive for my guests to dine upon.”

“T-that is so cruel.” Will whispered as he trembled making the water shimmer and dance, his eyes wide and white ringed with fear, his voice raspy from it.

“I promised to be honest with you.” Hannibal said, taking a moment to sip at his wine. Even that made Will shudder, the merman thinking that it looked like the human was drinking blood. “So it is a very good thing that your flesh is poisonous and I have absolutely no use for it.”

It took a moment for Hannibal’s words to sink in, the merman’s mind a quiet riot of fear and misery, but to his credit and Hannibal’s delight, he grasped the unspoken meaning of them, the merman shakily nodding in agreement. “I wish I had never saved that man.” Will whispered before sinking to the bottom of the tank like all the life had gone out of his body, relief making him less buoyant.

It was a strange enough comment that is caught Hannibal’s attention, the chef motioning to the merman before he could curl up on himself that he still wanted to talk. Looking reluctant to do so, Will floated back up slowly to the top. “What man?” Hannibal asked as soon as Will surfaced.

“The one that you call Chilton. He fell into the ocean during a storm. I saved him….” Will trailed off, looking drawn and tired. 

“That is how he caught you. You saved his life and he repaid you for it by stealing you away from the sea.” Hannibal finished for him, easily piecing the puzzle together. 

“Yes.” Will muttered. Misery weighted him down this time, the merman sinking down to lay out across the floor of his prison, feeling exposed even as he curled up and bristled his spines, a futile gesture of self reassurance at best. 

A cold rage traveled up, over, and through Hannibal as he watched merman’s spirit wither and die just a little bit more. Pacing himself to keep an iron grip on his temper, Hannibal savored his wine, considering many things as he combed through the unfamiliar feeling, the intensity of it not felt for some time. By the time the glass was finished and stained with lingered red, his anger had cooled down to more manageable levels, going from the chaotic inferno of a forest fire to the focused heat of a blacksmith’s kiln. Nodding to himself, Hannibal came to a decision as he made a phone call.

“Ah Frederick, you are in luck. I have found a place for you at my table.”

oOo

Jack Crawford and his beautiful wife Bella were one of the few regulars at Hannibal’s table. This particular dinner party was no exception. “So what am I putting in my mouth? This tastes amazing.” Jack moaned around another forkful.

“Merman.” Hannibal smiled, playing the perfect host as he topped off his guest’s wine.

“Exquisite. It doesn’t even taste like fish.” Jack sighed in utter contentment, his body lax with it. Though an almost direct counterpoint to her husband, Hannibal appreciated her elegant presence. 

“Isn’t it supposed to be poisonous?” Bella asked in her usual quiet, understated manner.

“Not anymore.” Hannibal said, purposely taking a bite of the meat to reassure his guests. “Otherwise we are all in for a nasty surprise later on.”

“But how?” Bella pressed, taking another delicate bite as if to consider it. The pale, flaky meat had been garnished with scales that shone like black opals, providing lovely contrast to the pearly white sauce that influenced but never overpowered the flavors of the dish. As with all his meals, Hannibal had presented proof of the creature he was serving, each patron of his table presented with a memento of a shining preserved spine from the merman’s back and tiny bottles of pearlescent tears for everyone seated.

“Chefs like magicians are allowed their secrets, dear lady.” Hannibal stated in his most humble tones.

“Amazing, simply amazing.”

oOo

While he listened to forks scraping at rapidly emptying plates and guest complimenting Hannibal on his skill, Will happily gnawed on what was left of Chilton’s face. He ignored the sore itchiness in his back and the raw spots on his tail where Hannibal had cut off his more decorative spines and collected scales from him. He looked a little worse for wear but considering that he wasn’t trying to attract a mate or had the opportunity to, Will cared very little about his appearance. It would all grow back anyway. 

Will was quite full by the time he got around to cracking Chilton’s skull open, eating the thick cranial plates easily as he scooped out the human‘s brain, sucking the gray matter off of his fingers. He had eaten most of Chilton after Hannibal had eviscerated the man in his kitchen, taking only what he needed and giving the rest to Will, much to the merman’s delight. While Will feasted upon Chilton, Hannibal explained his plan to the merman, telling the creature what he needed from him.

As Will curled up to sleep off his meal, he thought about all the times he could have killed Hannibal. The human had gotten so close to him, even opening the top of the cage to balance precariously on the edge of it while he cut off Will’s spines with a bolt cutter, the only tool strong enough to do so. At any given time, Will could have grabbed him easily with his superior speed and strength, pulling Hannibal under. Will could have watched the life leave him one silver bubble at a time. A single scratch from his venom tipped fingers would have paralyzed the cook for hours on end, making the human his plaything to eat him alive as slow or fast as he would like. 

He hadn’t though, not even when Hannibal scraped a patch of scales off with a knife or pressed a bottle under his eyes to collect his tears, a large hand gently stroking Will’s sodden hair while he cried for Hannibal. As he fell into a deep sleep, Will thought about all the ways he could have killed chef but lurking on the edge of that was the remembrance of the strange warmth from the steady hands that were surprisingly gentle in their tasks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. :)  
> Thanks for all the feedback as well. You're getting smut for all your wonderful participation, you wonderful little Fannibals you.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal falls into the tank with Will. Interesting things happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back with more of the Hannibal mermaid AU thing that I wrote. This has at least three more parts to it before it's done. Yes, there will be smut by the end.

“What are you doing?”

Will was floating on his back, watching Hannibal find his footing between a step ladder and the tank’s metal skeleton as the chef tried to sort out all the tubing and electronics of a rather large dry/wet filter.

“Putting in an optimal solution to this mess.” Hannibal sighed. The best filter for a tank this size had been expensive but if it meant he could reclaim part of his kitchen back then so be it. In a way, the purchase itself carried a certain finality about his decision for the merman as well, one that Hannibal was feeling oddly comfortable with. He was not a man to let other people, much less supernatural creatures, into his personal space but Will had somehow inexplicably earned his place there. It was something that Hannibal planned to explore later on but after certain tribulations had been dealt with first. 

Hannibal preferred simple elegant methods to haphazardous ones. Streamlined solutions were easier to manage if a problem did arise, flaws detected earlier and dealt with accordingly. Case in point were the tanks Hannibal had slapped together the night Will had been delivered into his life. The collection of smaller aquariums and a riot of tubing needed to go away. As functional and ingenuitive as it was, an eyesore was an eyesore. 

Part of the top was open, the grates being sectional but not made for constant opening and closing, the iron heavy and the bolts difficult to manage. Hannibal had taken to leaving a section open, reasoning it wasn’t like Will could go anywhere. Even if he managed to escaped and crawl his way out of Hannibal’s house, the Chesapeake Bay was miles away and the way was hindered with the normal obstacles that came with suburbia, the lack of legs, or general knowledge of the area. 

It took some coaxing on Hannibal’s part but a bathmat was laid out over the top, allowing Will to sit out of his enclosure, at least for a while and not drip on Hannibal’s tile. It was a small freedom but one the merman seemed to appreciate. Will never sat out for long, though their conversations were beginning to get more extensive and diversified. As the merman became more comfortable in Hannibal’s presence, Will opened up about his existence, telling the chef while he cooked or prepped food small stories about his life under the sea. 

It was mostly a solitary existence for Will. In their species, merman were rare and often held in contempt by their female counterparts. Used only for breeding and even then rarely, mermaids preferring to breed with humans before eating them, their offspring always merfolk. Merman’s magic not as strong as the mermaids either, the males tended to live on the fringes, leery of their own kind and mostly hermit like in nature, their colorations dark to aid in this. Will admitted to keeping company with pods of dolphins though or the occasional migrating whale. Hannibal could tell that his solitude made his empathy for other beings an almost tangible thing and ultimately his downfall as well. It was what drove Will to save Chilton when the idiot doctor had fallen off of his boat. By doing so, Will had ensured his own capture.

Though it could be detrimental to him, it also worked to Will’s benefit. The merman’s gift was how Will knew that Hannibal preferred quiet and when to intrude upon it, the spaces between filled with soft classical music or powerful operas. That the chef abhorred idle chatter but deeply appreciated intelligent conversation, the most opportune times to engage usually first thing in the morning over coffee or late in the evening over a bottle of wine. 

To his own surprise, Hannibal discovered an unlikely but agreeable companion in the merman who though was ignorant of humanity was extremely intelligent and perceptive. It was a rare treat for Hannibal to able to introduce the concepts of philosophy, music, and art to such a receptive student with a unbiased mind. One who absorbed everything in like a sponge but could still argue his own opinions on the subject matters, showing preference and even desire. 

More of Hannibal’s evenings were being spent beside the tank, the chef’s chair positioned near the glass, the time spent in relaxation as the two listened to arias or Will listened to Hannibal read aloud to him. The merman had let the chef know that he could hear him perfectly fine through the glass though he couldn’t respond unless surfaced. Music was Hannibal’s preferred choice for their nights spent together. Whether he meant to or not, Will would swim in time with the music being played, almost like he was dancing along with it. In those moments, Hannibal would turn out the lights completely to watch the merman whose bioluminescence cast the kitchen in icy blue light and made the water shimmer with movement. It was like witnessing a captured nebula swirl in its own pocket of universe, the ripple and play of stars made of scales entrancing in its fluid beauty. 

As much as Hannibal liked to watch the merman, Will often returned the favor in equal parts, looking particularly amused today as Hannibal huffed quietly at his efforts or lack there of. The new filtration system was in and working properly but Hannibal found out that he had been quite thorough securing his makeshift one. He was struggled with the tubing when it decided to suddenly give, sending Hannibal reeling back into the water and a very surprised merman. Flailing for purchase, Hannibal succeeded at snagging his fingers on the grating, the heavy metal grate promptly falling close due to his plummeting body weight and loss in balance. 

To make matters worse as Hannibal tried to disentangle himself from the merman, he felt his limbs peculiarly begin to lose feeling, dead numb even, as his legs and arms grew stiff and useless. Wisps of blood dissipating into the water told both human and merman that Hannibal had incurred a wound at some point from Will’s barbed fingers, the toxin from them paralyzing and quick. 

Hannibal found the most he could do was hold his breath and blink his eyelids as he felt himself hit bottom. He looked up at the tank in dismay through the chaos mirror space of shifting water, realizing even while he was losing breathe that Will could not open the grating. He was trapped in here with a creature he had intended to kill at one time and was now at the said creature’s mercy. Hannibal closed his eyes as he counted down the seconds he had left of oxygen. He had always heard that drowning was like falling asleep. All things considered, it was better than being eaten alive.

Just as the last silver bubble of life slipped out from between stiff lips, softness pressed itself up to his mouth. A rough tongue parted the opening before forming a seal of flesh around the orifice. Oxygen was forced down Hannibal’s throat, strikingly cold and meaty tasting, but made none the less sweeter. Hannibal slitted his too heavy eyelids to find iolite eyes staring back at him, his head being carefully held in place by dark palms with their deadly fingers held out and away. Like he was the observer instead of the participant, Hannibal could feel Will settle his unresponsive body against a scaled own, Will mindful of his spines that would do far more damage as he coiled his tail around them both. 

Even with limited senses, Hannibal could feel Will breathe for the both of them, pulling in air through his gills in deep breaths, the slits hidden behind his pointed ears and under his hair. With conscious effort, he redirected it through his lungs to give to Hannibal who calmly accepted the arrangement. It wasn’t like he could do anything else, and he was all for whatever method kept him alive, even if it was intimate. The chef was amused to see that Will’s eyes still held a note of panic in them, tinged with unnecessary apology. If anything, he looked embarrassed enough for the both of them.

The water was cold but Hannibal was getting used to it, distracted by other sensations. He found that the merman’s flesh and coils of scaled tail was even cooler in the touch than the chill press of the water. Will’s skin was also more conflicting in texture than it appeared, feeling denser yet smoother, like the merman was made from a type of elastic stone. The hidden strength that lay in the body was amazing, Will easily moving where he wanted Hannibal, holding the human still with barely any effort on his part.

Despite the tentative situation, Hannibal could feel the warm trickle of arousal begin to trickle its way down his spine. It was a rare thing for him to experience, the chef almost surprised by its existence. It settled warm and heavy in his belly as he began to feel more, his existence cradled carefully against a body essentially made of poison and razors, a careless move on either of their part holding finality for Hannibal. The thought shouldn’t have turned Hannibal on as much as it did, but he accepted it was willingly as the air that was being pressed into his lungs.

Time lapsed and Hannibal found that he had limited control of his faculties back as he touched his tongue to Will’s own. The light press of moist flesh almost made the merman flinch back, Hannibal getting the impression the merman had no idea what the human was doing. Smirking and finding that he could do so now, Hannibal threw caution and his survival to the wind, pressing his tongue in further to taste Will. He watched the merman’s reaction through half lidded eyes, the merman’s bright eyes shining with confusion. He held still though, so Hannibal continued to explore.

As expected, Will tasted salty, but not coiling so. His tongue was strangely pebbled and rough, like fine sandpaper, the shape of it tapered sharp. Not surprisingly, his teeth were razors, the merman getting an intimate taste of Hannibal who couldn’t resist finding this out firsthand, running his tongue over the jagged points. Will hummed at the metallic taste, the sound of it having the effect of gasoline as warm pool of heat in Hannibal’s belly was lit, desire rolling through him.

It was like a punch to the gut, Hannibal exhaling sharp breathes back into Will’s mouth as he tried to reign himself in, the grips upon his control like spider webbing upon a storm. He found he could raise his arms now, carefully doing so that his hands could cup Will’s face. The merman’s eyes fell close when Hannibal’s thumbs brushed over delicate features and defined cheekbones. Will leaned into the sensations, purring in strange clicks from the pleasant motions of being explored and touched.

Hannibal shivered violently, though just not from the new onslaught of sound and vibrations being pushed into him. Both were reminded that he was human and could not stay submerge in cold water much longer if he wished to remain well.

His limbs alive with pins and needles sensations, Hannibal disengaged himself from Will, the merman letting him do so with consideration, the movements of his tail slow, easy to track, and his arms held out away and wide. Kicking off the bottom to breach surface, Hannibal gasped for air with his own lungs, the air lacking something now though in flavor.

Will surfaced as well, both taking into account the grate as Hannibal reached up to test it. It was too heavy though and he could not get any leverage against the slick sides of the glass. This did not bode well for them. 

“I could open it for you if it weren‘t for the iron.” Will offered, swimming around Hannibal. He found he liked circling the human, the warmth that Hannibal’s body gave off enticing. 

“What would happen?” Hannibal asked, curious. He knew of the merfolk’s aversion to the metal but had little knowledge of the ill effect it had upon them or the extent.

“Acute sickness, blackening flesh from point of contact before it sloughs off the bone completely, and eventually a lingering death.” Will said bluntly.

Hannibal nodded, taking that all into account as a plan formed in his mind now that he had all the factors. “Could you touch it with a barrier around it?” he asked.

“Yes.” Will gestured to the bathmat which was on the floor of course, having slid off from all the movement because that was their luck today. Instead of answering, Hannibal stared to strip off his clothing, Will watching on in open interest. 

“Why do you wear those and so many?” Will asked as more of Hannibal’s chest and legs were revealed, the process of undressing slowed down exponentially by the water. Silk that had once slid over skin with barely a whisper now clung tenaciously to it. With every newly freed piece, Hannibal wrapped it around the bars in strategic places.

The suit was ruined by now anyway and Hannibal preferred freedom to fashion. It had never been one of favorites, one of his more somber suits of a brown and black wool plaid. He only regretted that it could not be ruined as a complete set, the outer shell of a coat mocking him from its place on the chair where he had placed it earlier. Even without it, Hannibal had more than enough clothing, once again personal grateful for his pension to wear three piece suits and a full length bistro apron while in the kitchen.

“Modesty, social views, temperature regulation, expression of personality- the list is quite extensive and differs from person to person as well as society….” Hannibal explained absently as he secured the last article of clothing in place, leaving himself solely in a slim fitting pair of black silk boxers. 

Hannibal trailed off when he realized that he was speaking to air and whole lot of absent merman. The chef froze in place the best he could while treading water when he felt too smooth palms slide over his now bare shoulders, moving downward long his spine in exploration. Reaching up to brace himself against the bars, Hannibal stayed still as Will circled lazily around him, studying the human’s body with his palms, his fingers fanned out wide to avoid further mishaps.

Will’s touch was a light fleeting thing at best, gentle in pressure yet curious as he followed the ebb and flow of muscles, Hannibal quite fit for his age. The merman was especially curious when it came to Hannibal’s legs, pressing his palms to the sharp cut of defined calves and the firmness of thighs, while poking at the hinge of the knee with black knuckles. Feet were a fascination and toes a revelation, Hannibal wiggling them at Will, amused by the merman’s surprised reaction to them.

Stopping at the boxers, Will seemed to contemplate their presence. Hannibal hissed as a too firm palm was pressed up against the softness of his genitals, the contact more painful than pleasurable. That and the cold water was not doing anything generous for him in that area either or would allow for much even if Will knew what he was doing. 

Flare ups of covetous want stirred in his gut and Hannibal allowed himself to wonder for a moment about his options with the merman. Nothing could be done now but later? Of course when your intended has a mouth full of razors and fingers tipped with poison challenges do arise in the more intimate areas of relationships. Hannibal had always loved a challenge though and his idea of sexual gratification, like his preference for meat, could be considered very different from the norm. 

Shaking off such ideas for the time being, Hannibal shifted his hips away from Will and his prodding, warning the merman off from continuing. Will surfaced with a slight smirk, his usually furtive gaze meeting Hannibal‘s own solidly for once.

“Are you satisfied?” Hannibal managed out almost evenly, considering that his teeth were beginning to chatter. Even his body had its limitations. 

“No, but you’re starting to turn blue. While far more pleasant than pink, I am aware that it is a poor color for humans.” Will snorted, breaking their rare eye contact to study where Hannibal had secured his clothing. He nodded at its placement. “You’ll need to go down to the other end.”

The merman waited until Hannibal had complied before reaching toward the bars. Hannibal watched in interest as the water gathered around Will, swirling and foaming as it tunneled, raising the merman up while securing him as he took hold of the bars. Metal screamed as it was ripped off its hinges with the ease of paper, Will throwing it away from him to let it hit the floor. Hannibal winced as his tiles shattered from the impact and his walls and floors were gorged with deep furrows. He might have been annoyed if he wasn’t so impressed. He paddled back over to the merman descended looking drawn and exhausted to study the twisted iron..

“You could tear this cage apart if you wanted to.” Hannibal observed with a murmur. He should have felt scared. A normal person would have but then Hannibal hadn’t been anywhere close to normal for a lifetime now. If anything, his tired chilled body was doing its best toward an erection.

“Except for all the damn iron, yes. Yes, I could.” Will shrugged wearily, finding the strength to give Hannibal of boost over the edge, the human shakily climbing down. “The ocean is too far away for me to call upon.”

“You can sense the ocean?” Hannibal asked, reaching for his coat to pull it on. He really should go get warmed up and get properly dressed but Will was being so fascinating and open with him. He didn’t want to lose this moment between them, not just yet.

“It’s in that direction.” Will gestured behind him. Hannibal felt no need to verify if he was right, he knew he was. “You would be in trouble if I were a mermaid. Kept this close to the ocean they can call storms onto land even when surrounded with this much iron.”

“I should have been in trouble before. Not to sound ungrateful but why did you choose to save me? It should have been in your nature to kill me.” Hannibal asked because life was too short not to try for all the answers. “Are we merely having a series of conversations or is this becoming something beyond that now?”

Will smiled, the expression slight and having all the finer qualities of quicksilver. “Yes, I believe is the answer to that.”

oOo

“That smells terrible.” Will complained, before dipping his head back under the water to avoid the olfactory onslaught. He glared up at Hannibal, making quick loops in the water in way of showing his irritation. The chef ignored him, concentrating on applying even strokes of paint to the cage’s metal skeleton. He was on the stepladder again, focusing on covering the remaining sections of the ruined top. It would take several coats but the results would be well worth it, the iron covered in a thick covering of plastic and effectively neutralized. 

“Agreed, but when it dries, the metal should have no effect on you.” Hannibal spoke at the merman, knowing full well now that the creature could hear him even if he couldn’t respond. “I have no wish for a repeat of yesterday’s mishap.”

“Was it all bad?” Will had surfaced again to look up at the chef tentatively. Hannibal regarded the merman for a long moment, before setting neatly aside his paintbrush.

“Come here.” Hannibal said softly, the near whisper still carrying all the heavy weight of an order. It was thrill to watch a creature as deadly and as powerful as the merman comply, Will even ducking his head like he was expecting some sort of punishment. Fingers tucked under Will chin kept the merman in place with his head tilted up as Hannibal leaned down. Will gasped when their lips touched, Hannibal stealing the breath that had been given so generously to him before.

It tasted even sweeter to him now. 

oOo  
TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I eat your comments with tartar sauce and a spritz of lemon juice. nom nom nom


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of merman Will and Chef Hannibal. Kinda fluffy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience.

“What is that?”

Hannibal looked up to find Will already perched out on the bars of his tank, his tail’s end dipping into the water looking like crushed night velvet on holiday, his back spines rattling organically soft together as the merman shifted to peer down at the drowsy human. Will leaned over as far as he could for a better look as he watched Hannibal‘s drink preparation with interest, the chef currently foaming the milk for his cappuccino. 

“Coffee made with frothed milk.” Hannibal told him as he spooned out the foam with care, piling it in soft mounds over the diluted espresso’ s surface before dusting the drink with a dash of cinnamon cocoa. 

“You drink that a lot. It smells nice.” Will said, his tone almost wistful sounding.

“Would you like one?” Hannibal bit back a smile as the merman hesitantly nodded. Will was still too shy to ask for anything flat out, the tentative creature more likely to stare at something that peeked his interest and let Hannibal decide if he were allowed to have it or not. With a pleased smile at such quiet submissive obedience, the chef added an almond biscotti to the cup’s saucer as well before walking over to the tank. 

“Here you are. It is hot so be careful.” Hannibal warned, handing the beverage up, Will accepting the fine bone china gingerly and with great care to keep his fingers away from Hannibal’s own. Hannibal watched with open interest as the merman took his time experiencing his first coffee, delicately scenting the aromas coming off of it. The foam tickled his nose though when he committed himself to a sip, making Will shaking his head in surprise at the sensation and fan out his spines, which were as strangely graceful out of the water as in. 

“May I?“ Hannibal asked, gesturing to the merman’s back, the shoulders of which shrugged. 

Will wore an amused look on his face, trying to hide it behind the rim of his cup as the chef elevated himself on the stepladder beside the tank. After the near drowning incident, the pair had gotten a little bit more hands on with each other, Hannibal returning the favor of exploration when the mood struck him. The merman turned toward Hannibal, willing to accommodate the chef as he fanned out the sails on his back with a flex of his back muscles. Hannibal stretched out his fingers, running the tips of them along the panels of black opal scales. The spaces between the merman’s spines were cool to the touch, smooth but with a pebbling texture to them. 

“Can you feel that?” Hannibal asked, running his fingers from the frayed outer edges to where it connected and merged to more human like flesh, the transition between scales to skin seamless. The chef froze, holding very still as he felt dangerous fingers combed lightly through his own silvery ashen hair. 

“Can you feel that?” Will was smiling as he asked, slowly pulling his hand back so that Hannibal could track it. Both beings satisfied, the merman returned his attention back to his coffee while Hannibal climbed down to start in own. 

Getting a taste for coffee and spurred on by his enthusiasm for it, the merman nearly put his face into the cup before recalling Hannibal’s method of drinking, resting his lips against the edge instead.

“How do you like it?” Hannibal asked as he watched Will take greedy little sips of the creamy brown liquid, disregarding the hot temperature. 

“It’s good.” Will said, taking a moment to study the accompanying biscotti. He pressed it to his nose, inhaling its sweet fragrance deeply, making Hannibal wonder how acute the merman’s sense of actually smell was. Thinking about sharks and blood in the water, he watched as the biscotti was eaten all at once with an audible ’chomp’ and chewed slowly in consideration, the chef wincing slightly at the lack of elegance put into it. “I’m not sure about the other thing though. It tastes……”

Will trailed off, seemingly at a loss for adequate words of description. Hannibal reasoned it was only natural given that the merman’s diet primarily consisted of raw flesh and various types of seaweed. There were only so many taste profiles to describe either and Hannibal was willing to bet his pots and pans that savory was not one of them.

“The tastes you are experiencing are referred to as lightly sweet and nutty.” Hannibal informed him, gesturing for the empty cup. If he didn’t get it back now, it would be a hassle later. He had found out firsthand that merfolk were natural hoarders. With new boundaries being explored daily between them, Will had become openly curious about items most human considered commonplace. So when Will asked to look at silverware, plates, glasses, and other items of tableware, Hannibal had thought nothing of it as he handed the items over to be perused. That was until he noticed that the merman wasn‘t giving them back, choosing to pile all his stolen goods in a corner and sleep on top of the silver, cut crystal, and porcelain like a dragon guarding its hoard. “The coffee would be considered creamy and bitter.”

“I like bitter.” Will decided after a moment of consideration.

“Would you like to find out what else you might like?” Hannibal asked, warming up to the idea. A chef couldn’t ask for anything better than a virgin palette as he began to open up his kitchen, pulling out various ingredients and other cooking components. The merman watched on in amusement as little glass measuring bowls were procured and filled, a plan of introduction already forming in the chef’s head. It all came to a momentary halt when Hannibal’s sanguine eyes alighted on an unfinished bottle of red wine from last night. Giving into the temptation of grooming another wine aficionado, Hannibal poured a few ounces of Malbec into a glass. “Would you care for some wine, Will?”

“It looks like blood.” Will observed with a slight frown but accepted the offered glass anyway. 

“It tastes even better.” Hannibal all but purred. Will swallowed all the ruby liquid down at once, making a face as he experienced the dry recoil of tannic aftertaste. 

“Is it supposed to taste like that?” Will asked, frowning down at the glass like it had personally offended him. 

Hannibal snorted, trading empty glassware for full, this time the ruby red liquid a little less potent. “Perhaps not the best beginner wine. Forgive me and try this instead. It is fruit juice. Pomegranate blended with cranberry.”

Will managed to take in one sip before spitting the rest back into the glass with a disgusted expression. “I don’t like it.” Will said flatly.

“I gathered.” Hannibal said, making a mental note to further Will’s education on manners now that he was experiencing human food. 

Offers of cheese were flat out refused, the odor coming off the dairy products enough to make the merman retreat back into the depths of his tank to glare sullenly at the dairy product. Hannibal thought it was an extreme overreaction to Cheddar and Roquefort, but made of show of putting it away to appease the merman. He coaxed Will out once again with promises of fruit. Slices of honey crisp apples, ripe mangos, and bosc pears were sampled to varying degrees of mediocre responses, the merman not particularly impressed by the offered fare. Vegetables were met with the same reaction, the merman eating the pieces of greenery without protest but obviously with no delight either. Carrots were the exception to this for some reason, the merman very enthusiastic about the tapered orange colored root. 

Potatoes were nearly thrown back at Hannibal’s head, the merman affronted by their lumpy existence, viciously so as he lashed his tail against the tank sharp enough to crack it like a whip. Jagged teeth bared and spines bristled wide to make himself look bigger, Will clicked and hissed at Hannibal until they were hidden away in the pantry again. 

Almost as an apology, Hannibal switched food groups entirely, choosing to grill and sauté while the merman calmed down enough to emerge again. Meats of all variety were enjoyed, though fowl was given pause for, Will smelling the pieces of cooked chicken, duck, and pheasant very thoroughly before nibbling on them. Rabbit was the merman least favorite out of all proteins presented, Will asking if it were even considered food due to the lack of taste to him. 

Hannibal assumed Will had more inclination toward bitter foods until he made some lemon tea sweetened with honey to clean the merman‘s palette before he sampled anything else. He watched on in amusement as the hot liquid was gulped down despite its scalding temperature and the cup licked out clean, Will very enthusiastic about the flavor of something in the mix. He winced though upon hearing razor teeth begin to scrape the porcelain’s finish. 

In an effort to save his fine bone china, Hannibal dipped his fingers into the honey jar, fishing out some honey comb. Hannibal raised up the golden mass for Will to taste, the merman leaning over the edge of his enclosure to do so. Instead of accepting the sweetness in hand though, Will delicately took Hannibal’s fingers into his mouth, mindful of his teeth as he ran his rough tongue over the sweetened digits and swallowed down the honeycomb whole. 

While the taste was being savored, Hannibal got a rare opportunity to study the merman’s face up close without the obscure of moisture over it. Will’s hair was lighter when it was dry, the black of it fading out to more of a rich chocolate brown. It also curled much to Hannibal’s inner delight, the halo of wavy dips crowning Will gracefully. 

Though Will was careful with his teeth, Hannibal was purposely not. As the merman began to draw away from fingers licked clean within an inch of their life, Hannibal pressed down. Hannibal sighed with pleasure as the pads of his fingers were split open on natural points sharper than his own blades. Will hummed at the sudden burst of metallic taste, catching Hannibal’s wrist. The chef held very still as not to be grazed by the merman’s barbed fingers while the Will drank in his fill, his tongue working greedily over the wounds. Hannibal focused on his breathing, palming himself with his free hand to readjust. His lower belly suddenly felt full and too warm, his cock responding to the stimuli of being so intimately sampled. 

Hannibal was snapped out of his revelry when his hand was let go, the merman drawing away from him with a furtive look. “That was a stupid thing to do.” Will muttered to find his face being caught and brought still. Hannibal held the merman in place, leaning up to pressed their lips together. Will allowed it, growing more used to the human’s strange custom of affection. He parted his lips for Hannibal, letting the human slide his tongue into him as he mimicked the movements back with his own. Will tasted as salty out of the water as in, Hannibal lapping his way into the merman’s mouth. He couldn’t resist running his tongue up against the sharp edges he found there.

Old habits died hard though, Hannibal’s teeth sinking into Will’s bottom lip, a vileness of indeterminate flavor filling his mouth in the answering wound. It was sharp and coiling, the merman’s blood filled with a coolness that was sickening and tinged with a taste similar to that of rotting meat. It took a moment for Hannibal to realize the flavor of decomposition was from his own flesh degrading, his inner lip and tongue beginning to swell and blister. Hannibal was vaguely aware of Will grabbing his shoulders to shove his away at arm’s length, careful not to spill the chef off of his stepladder. His face was filled with horrific realization of what Hannibal had just tasted. 

“Oh gods! What have you done?! Spit it out!” Will cried, Hannibal already way ahead of the merman as he freed himself to fall forward onto the tile and stumble toward his refrigerator, trying desperately not to swallow even as his throat treacherously convulsed against his will. The possible key to his salvation was in the front where he remembered putting it away, the chef pouring milk into his mouth and over his lips. At contact, the pulsing swell of flesh started to calm down, soothed back to normalcy with only a vague tingling left behind in wake of the poison‘s demise.

Gasping wetly, Hannibal didn’t even realize he was on the floor until he opened his eyes, breathing in deeply the smell of blood, salt, and spilled milk that was beginning to sour around the edges of the scent as it dried. The chef reasoned he must have passed out for a while as his head was being supported in a moist lap now. The merman was on the floor with him, Will propping his torso carefully up against the fridge so that his spines would not ruin the wood finish of the chef’s cabinets. Even in his weakened state, Hannibal recognized and appreciated the merman’s thoughtfulness. 

“I guess that answers one question. Definitely deadly upon consumption.” Hannibal mumbled, tasting his own blood on his lips. The blisters were gone and the swelling subsided though as the chef ran his tongue over the small lingering wounds. All that was left behind were weeping sores as tangible proof of his personal folly. 

“I wasn’t lying to you. I wouldn‘t do that.” Will snapped, glaring down at the chef who struggled for a moment but managed to sit up under his own power. “It’s a miracle you’re not dead.”

“An ancient remedy for poison among humans.” Hannibal sighed, still slightly dizzy as he crawled over to the still open fridge to pull out the half and half from its well stocked depths. He drank most of it down just to play it safe and felt immediately better for it.

“I’m sorry.” Will said softly, looking like the proverbial fish out of water. There was water all over Hannibal’s tile but the chef couldn’t really bring himself to care as he tracked the path it led from tank to where they were seated. Hannibal envisioned Will floundering out of water to crawl over to him, the merman leaving his environment to protect him while he was unconscious. 

“Why are you apologizing, dear one? You have done nothing wrong.” Hannibal soothed, reaching over to pet curls that were softer and finer than spun silk. It was almost his undoing, Will lunging forward with the quickness of eels in oil. Before Hannibal even had time to blink, he found back slammed against the floor and his body caged in coils of merman with Will‘s teeth grazing the apple of his exposed throat . 

Despite the abrupt turn of events, Hannibal calmly noted now careful Will was being, the amount of control the merman exerted over his own body. Though Will had spiraled his tail over Hannibal’s legs to encase them, he had done so in a way so that none of spine’s spearheads were in danger of puncturing the chef’s flesh. The paralyzing hands that gripped his shoulders, did so with palms only, the merman keeping the human in place with his superior strength rather than with leverage or grip. It was like being cradled in the mouth of a shark, one on the brink of chewing its meat.

“I could kill you so easily.” Will told him, his tone more matter-of-fact than bragging. Hannibal could feel the merman’s lips moving over his throat and breath that left a body too cool to be human chill the thin skin there.

“Yes.” Hannibal sighed breathlessly, pressing his torso up against the merman’s so that their torsos were flush as he titled his head back further, daring the predator more than submitting to it, his hands finding the merman‘s sides to stroke at pale frigid skin. 

“Would you like to die that way?” Will growled, trying to loom over Hannibal in a threatening manner. The effect was ruined though by the chef smiling at the merman, his hands trailing up further to map out a firm chest with all its dips and curvatures of whipcord muscle. 

“Death comes to us all. I could not ask for a more beautiful or unique way to die.” Hannibal said, leaning up as far as he could to brush his face against the merman’s own. 

“You think I’m beautiful?” he heard Will murmur, tension leaving the merman’s body as he went lax around and above. Taking the chance, Hannibal lost the distance between them as he touched his crimson slick lips to Will’s own in a chaste bloody kiss. 

“No. I know you are.”

oOo  
TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.


	7. oh snap! Look who finally wrote another chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of Merman Will with Chef Hannibal. They get a visit from Abigail and Hobbs. Will is not a fan.  
> Not beta read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH SHIT! I BET YOU DIDN'T EXPECT THIS!  
> BAM! THERE YOU GO! MERMAN WILL! KEEPING THE LOVE ALIVE.  
> DON'T SAY I NEVER GAVE YOU ANYTHING.

Instead of a cappuccino, Hannibal’s mornings now began with a kiss. 

As soon as the chef entered his kitchen, the merman would come out of his tank to sit on the opening’s edge, leaning over and down to press a salty wet good morning to Hannibal’s mouth. 

“You’re dressed up. What‘s the occasion?” Will observed as he drew away, taking in Hannibal’s ensemble. The human was wearing his full three piece suit instead of his normal nightwear with a dressing gown through over it or his kitchen wear of dark slacks, white dress shirt, and apron. 

Mornings were usually languid things between them, Hannibal taking his time making breakfast and coffee for the both of them. Sometimes accompanied by classical music to harmonize seamlessly with it or acapella, Will would often sing for Hannibal while some sort of delicacy was being prepared, soft lilting music never heard by any human or out of the ocean’s depths. The effects of it made Hannibal’s skin tingle and his body feel fresh like he had just been a scalding hot shower without the burning sensation of it. 

“Early business, I’m afraid. I’m expecting a shipment from one of my hunters. They have come a very long way to deliver it. I would like to welcome them properly.” Hannibal said. The Hobbs were driving in from Minnesota to Maryland with some very rare cargo. The father/daughter duo had apparently been able to track down and capture a hippogriff. They were bringing it alive to Hannibal, the chef already having made an appointment with his butcher. Francis Dolarhyde was a great brute of a man who seemed to live for killing thing, but he was quick, efficient, and didn’t ask question so he got Hannibal’s business. 

Though Hannibal usually preferred to deal directly with the ingredients for his unique dishes, butchering some supernatural creatures came at a steep price. The death of creatures such as unicorns, kirin, and most good fairies were a delicate matter, the act of murder upon them marking or cursing their killer. It was a risk, one that Hannibal had no wish to tempt fate on so hence the employ of a middleman.

The Hobbs were stopping by so that Hannibal could verify the validity of his purchase and look over the quality of it before the meat was taken to its final destination in life. Dolarhyde would do what he did best then, the cruel man with the scarred face giving Hannibal a call when he was done and ready for pickup and payment. If the Hobbs arrived on time, Hannibal could have his new ingredients by tonight, the chef already making a shopping list in his head of other things he might need for his event. He got paid ridiculous amounts of money for doing something he loved but Hannibal still enjoyed challenging himself and refused to rest on his laurels. 

“Would you like some plants in there with you?” Hannibal asked, nodding his head at the tank. He did so carefully, well aware of Will’s barbed fingertips carding lightly through his silvery ashen hair. It was tempting to reprimand the merman about ruining his careful styling, but the merman seemed to take great pleasure from grooming Hannibal’s hair as he saw fit. It was common merfolk behavior, and if Hannibal let him, Will would happily comb the man’s hair for hours until his lock shone like satin. 

The enormous tank, Will’s permanent living space, was still barren with nothing to distract from its singular occupant. The merman had never asked for anything though to cushion the bottom he slept on or brighten the environment his very nature imprisoned him in. Hannibal was considering the idea of converting his backyard into an outdoor saltwater aquarium. He could afford to do it, but it would mean a greater risk of discovery. That and he would miss the merman’s company in his kitchen. 

“I am not your pet.” Will growled softly against Hannibal’s temple, his lips scraping against the thin skin there as the human and merman scented each other. 

“I’ve never thought of you as one. I was inquiring because I wished to make your limited environment more pleasurable to live in.” Hannibal told him, which was partially true. He also couldn’t stand a blank space. “I can pick some up later while I am out.”

“Oh…..no. No, thank you.” Will said softly, sounding mollified. He endeavored to stay in good graces, knowing that Hannibal liked manners. “Sorry….I just feel….”

“Confined?” Hannibal filled in for him. Will shrugged in answer, seeming more intent on messing up Hannibal’s hair further. The doorbell’s chime intruded upon their morning ritual, cutting off Will before the merman could reply or confirm.

“It would appear that they are earlier than excepted. You’ll have to be patient, Will. I’ll make us breakfast when I am done.” Hannibal sighed. He was always in favor of punctuality, but found he could have had some rare forgiveness for delay on the Hobbs’ part so that he could have enjoyed his morning with Will. 

Nodding, Will leaned back and up as he used the tank‘s edge as leverage, slipping underneath the water’s surface without a sound. He knew his existence was best kept secret from other humans. If they didn’t fear him and wish the merman immediately dead, they would covet him either as a pet or part of a collection. Others might try their hand as testing the mystery of merfolk flesh, whether it brought death or immortality. In either case, dead or alive, Will was aware that he would be hidden away as a trophy of some sort instead of being allowed to exist in this limited yet pleasant space of Hannibal’s kitchen. 

Curling up on the bottom of the tank, tight enough that all his spines angled up protectively around him, Will went back to sleep with the taste of Hannibal still lingering in his mouth.

OoOoO

The Hobbs were an interesting pair to deal with. Having once in life been a simple plumber, Garrett Jacob Hobbs had given up that vocation to become a hunter of the supernatural full time, dragging his daughter along for the ride with him. Abigail looked old enough to be in college, but Hannibal could already tell there was some issues there residing in Hobbs about his beautiful, wind chafed daughter. The over attachment to her was obvious, his obsessive love for her a dangerous thing, and making him into a monster. A monster that would have to be put down for good sooner or later. 

After they exchanged pleasantries and were well into haggling over the price of the hippogriff, Hannibal wondered idly to himself about how many girls had to die to keep Hobbs from killing his most prized possession. The psychiatrist turned chef could tell it was only a matter of time until he gave into the urge, but something about Abigail told Hannibal that she would not allow that to happen or make it that easy for her father. She had some iron in her spine and a cunning behind her eyes that her father lacked.

Getting product from numerous sources, Hannibal had heard some interesting rumors about Abigail from other hunters. Meeting her in person only confirmed that most of them were true. According to the Hobbs’ associates, Abigail was not above tracking and killing another hunter’s mark, or even going so far as to letting prey go if she thought the other hunter hadn’t earned the right to the kill. Hunters who used traps to capture their quarry were especially suspicious of her. Things had the habit of escaping from their enclosures when she was in the area. 

“Would it be alright if I used your bathroom?” Abigail asked during a lull in conversation, Hannibal and Hobbs finally coming to an agreement.

“But of course. I imagine you are quite fatigued after such a long drive and would like to freshen up. Please forgive me. I have been a terrible host. I should have offered you use of the facilities before we started talking.” Hannibal said, directly the young women to the right door in question. 

“Meet me outside, baby girl. I want to get back on the road as soon as possible. You know your mom will worry if we take too long.” Hobbs called over his shoulder. Money hot in hand and with only one last stop before returning to Minnesota, Hobbs wanted to get the hell out of the city and back to his woods. Being in Hannibal’s house didn’t help either. Everything seemed to loom over him, somehow frightening in its décor and menacing in its color scheme. Instinctually, Hobbs could feel he was in a den of some kind, though Hannibal didn’t look like any predator he had ever seen before. 

His guests in the process of departing, Hannibal walked around his sitting room, collecting up nearly empty glasses of offered beverage. He paused in his task when he realized that he had not heard Abigail leave yet, the young woman taking far too long. Quickening his step, Hannibal found the bathroom empty of any occupant, which meant Abigail had gone somewhere she should not have. Either intentionally or by mistake, it was a grave error on both their parts that might have a very bad outcome for someone depending on where she had ended up. 

The sound of angry clicking and hissing that could only be produced from one rare source came from the direction of his kitchen, making Hannibal curse low and fervent as he strode toward the noise. 

OoOoO

Will woke up upon hearing someone enter the kitchen. He was caught off guard though when the merman unfurled from his sleeping position to find it was not Hannibal standing beside his tank. In the chef’s place was a young human female with long auburn hair and large blue eyes that were staring at Will in open wonder. 

Her attention was so intent upon him, Will wondered if she even noticed the tendrils of water the merman was forming above her overhead. Armed chains made of water that could pierce her flesh as easily as any blade or wrap themselves about her to drag the human into the tank with Will where he would make short work of her. It would be like similar in effect to throwing a guppy in a blender.

Toying with the idea of killing her, Will stared back in the manner of fish, dull and dead eyed. She was obviously one the hunters Hannibal had delayed his breakfast to speak with so Will knew his human would be upset if he killed her. The fact that she was here alone in the kitchen did not sit well with Will though, the merman vividly remembering the Tobias Budge incident. 

“Hello? Can you understand me?” the young woman asked, tapping the glass of Will’s tank. The merman bit back a wince, the vibration of action concentrated by the water to make his sensitive ear ring. He had forgotten that humans liked to do that for some reason. Hannibal hadn’t done such a thing since their first meeting, the human instantly noticing that it caused Will pain. 

Ignoring her questions, Will found that the fact that she was here alone in the kitchen without Hannibal did not sit well with him, the merman vividly remembering the Tobias Budge incident. Upon leaning about his partner Franklin’s death at the hands of the merman, the fae hunter had tried to kill Hannibal in his own kitchen. Will had still been too weak from the surrounding exposed iron of his cage and starvation at the time to intervene so he’d had to watch Hannibal defend himself and ultimately kill the other man with his bare hands. It had been a close call and Hannibal had been left limping from weeks from a stab wound to his leg. 

The thought of Hannibal possibly injured by these visiting hunters angered Will who was powerful enough now to take some sort of action about it. The sudden flare in temper made Will move, rearing up with the speed and grace of eels to spread himself out wide as he fell into a fighting form. It caused the young woman to back away from his tank with a gasp, the idea of escape further enforced when Will started to chant at her. When he was done with the spell, he would have total control over every drop of water in her body. He would make her tell him where Hannibal was or he would tear her apart slowly from the inside out by making her organs relocate themselves. 

“Will, please stop that. It’s rather grating on the ear.” came the cool calm voice of control that Will desired to hear. The merman stopped his casting accordingly, letting the magic of it dissipate enough so that he could let it die as he gathered the soul of water back up into himself. 

“What are you doing in here?” was directed at Abigail, Hannibal looking less than amused about her presence here or how agitated Will appeared to be. 

“I got lost.” Abigail offered weakly to receive a stern look from Hannibal. 

“Oh Abigail, I’m disappointed. You can do so much better than that.” Hannibal tutted as he walked over to Will, the merman still looking ready to main and kill given the slightest provocation. Hannibal didn’t want Abigail dead just yet, and there was still her father to deal with if they did end up killing her. 

“You should be careful.” Abigail said softly, like one would around a dangerous animal. Hannibal reasoned it was true in a way and appreciated the use of caution on her part. The young woman kept her eyes trained on Will, Hannibal joining her in observation though her warning hardly stopped him from approaching the tank. Will had never looked more beautiful in Hannibal’s opinion and he wasn’t about to pass up the chance to study the subtle changes in the merman’s appearance up close. 

The fins and the spines that grew out of Will’s back, reminding Hannibal of a lion fish in that regard, were spread out as high and wide as his enclosure would permit. Glittering banners made from midnight studded with crushed opals streamed all around the merman who held his arms out at his sides, his barbed fingers rippling in the water. The effect of it made the merman look huge.

Blue grey shuttered away from sight, Will’s eyes were an opaque black, something Hannibal could only assume was a third eyelid Will had kept hidden until now. It was probably only used when Will felt the need to fight or defend himself. 

All in all, it was an impressive display, something that was touched by the surreal. Hannibal doubted that many humans had seen such a thing before or had lived long enough to tell anyone about it.

“He’s presenting himself.” Abigail broke the still spell between the three of them first. 

“Is that bad?” Hannibal asked, already having a good idea why. He felt like testing Abigail though.

“It depends. He’s telling us…..telling me that you’re his mate or at least he considers you to be someone worthy of his protection.” Abigail answered as she made a small show of stepping away from Hannibal to put some space between them. Will’s display lowered a touch in direct response though his head swiveled to track her movement, his shark like teeth still bared.

“It makes him dangerous.” Abigail continued, keeping her voice low and calm. This was a person who did not scare easily. Even more so, she was one who recognized a predator when she saw one as the young woman backed further away, making her way toward the door. Hannibal approved even as he sent her a sharp look that stopped her in her tracks.

“He’s already dangerous.” Hannibal’s voice held smile in it, enough so that Abigail risked looking over at him even as she trembled in place. 

“He’s beautiful.” Abigail breathed out. There was fear but there was awe there too.

“That as well.” Hannibal nodded as he moved to put himself between the two. It made both relax but for very different reasons. A part of Hannibal wallowed in the power he held simultaneously over the girl and merman, the rich thickness of it like chocolate slowly melting on his tongue.

Ignoring Abigail and feeling light from the fact he could do so with Will so intent on her, Hannibal moved to stand in front of the tank to break the merman’s line of sight with his prey. Instantly, Will became noticeable calmer, his spines and body relaxing.

“He’s meant to live in this world. To be a part of it.” Abigail said, sounding almost poignant about it.

“We are not?” Hannibal inquired as he placed his hand to the glass, letting the coolness of it seep into his skin. Will moved up to the open palm to peer back at him, the human watching intently as the merman’s third eyelid slid back to reveal normalcy of a sort. 

“No. Humans are more like a cancer. We don’t care, not like they do. We just consume. Ruin everything…..” Abigail trialed off. Hannibal looked over at her to find that they were being studied by the young woman with hard blue eyes. “Are you going to kill him?”

“Merfolk flesh is poisonous.” Hannibal answered simply, wanting to see where Abigail would go with that sort of non-answer.

“Everyone knows that. You didn’t answer my question.” Abigail pointed out with a loaded tone and a glare. 

“I considered it.” Hannibal smiled slow, pleased with her response. The young woman had a potential her father did not. She deserved to live for now if she were clever enough to make it out of this kitchen alive.

“Past tense. You’re not anymore.” Abigail pointed out without hesitation on her part, a little too brash for Hannibal’s tastes but forgivable considering her age. “A lot of people wouldn’t be happy to know that you’re keeping a merman alive or as a….pet.”

“The same people would frown upon you sneaking out to hunt by yourself…” Hannibal pointed out. “…or should I say opening traps and releasing other hunter’s game.”

“You’ll keep my secret and I’ll keep yours.” Abigail didn’t bother to even make it a question or ask how Hannibal possibly knew that about her as the strange chef smiled in promise, thin and deadly in agreement. Will wasn’t the only predator in the room. The young woman paled at Hannibal’s expression, giving a hasty nod back before retreating entirely from the cook’s and merman’s presence. The slam of the front door signaled that she had left Hannibal’s domain for good, though he winced for his woodwork. He didn’t have to worry about reentry or further intrusion, the front door programmed to lock automatically. 

“I don’t like her.” Will grumbled, making Hannibal looking up to find the merman sitting on top of his tank. He easily swung himself up and over to the chair beside his enclosure, the only piece of plastic furniture Hannibal would ever deign to own. Metal was too abrasive for the merman to sit in, and it made Will apprehensive, merfolk not one for metals even if they were iron free. Wood, even with it treated, would eventually mold and warp. Plastic was the only viable option really, the material easy to dry off and replace if need be. It was a small sacrifice of aesthetics for Will’s comfort, but well worth it to have the merman sit out with him instead of perching on his cage or floating around in his tank. Though it weakened him to do so, Will could only stay out for a little while before he completely dried out.

“You don’t know her well enough to state that.” Hannibal gently chided the merman, deciding it was time to eat as the chef put together a plate of food for them. What he chose was indulgent and inappropriate for breakfast, but Hannibal was pleased by the day’s events as unexpected as they had been. He soon returned with a plate of pate and fruit balanced in hand.

Not used to silverware or liking the feel of it in hand(and Hannibal wasn‘t about to invest in plastic ware of any sort), Will was more often than not hand fed by Hannibal who found, much to his surprise, that he greatly enjoyed it. 

Pressing a chilled piece of foie gras to the merman’s lips, Hannibal delighted at the sight of Will carefully taking the offering between his jagged teeth. It held a certain thrill about it, much like hand feeding a shark pieces of chum. Intimacy at its finest was achieved when Will took Hannibal by his wrist, the merman keeping the cook still by wrapping his barbed fingers around in a deadly weave of fingers. 

“I don’t care.” Will muttering into Hannibal’s palm, his dark tongue chasing after the lingering taste of the ground up grocer on the cook’s skin. The merman’s tongue was pointed and textured rough, almost like a cat’s own. “I’m going to eat her if she steps foot in your kitchen again.”

“What is this? What did you just feed me?” Will sighed out in pleasure as he nuzzled Hannibal‘s thoroughly cleaned hand, making warmth collect in the man’s lower abdomen. 

“Fattened liver blended with spices. It’s typically made from geese or ducks.” Hannibal informed him as he leaned back to cross his legs, ignoring the slight swell of flesh between his legs. 

“Typically?” Will mused. “Is it normal for a human to eat their own kind?”

“No. Does it bother you?” Hannibal answered.

“Given half the chance, the female gender of my kind would eat me out of sheer boredom, so no. It’s doesn’t bother me.” Will grinned crookedly in memory. A merman’s life was fraught with danger, especially when dealing with his own kind. “Mermaids can be cruel when the mood strikes them.”

“Is that why you do not care for Abigail?” Hannibal asked.

“She smells like you do, in a way.” Will said easily, catching Hannibal by surprise. It wasn’t often someone besides himself gathering information in the olfactory sense so keenly.

“How so?” Hannibal pressed, wanting further confirmation to a growing suspicion.

“She eats the same type of meat you prefer to dine on.” Will told him. “I thought you said that wasn’t normal.”

“It’s not. What a pleasant surprise.” Hannibal loved gaining an advantage over a person of interest. “So your reaction…you were trying to protect me because you were worried about me? How do you see me?”

“As a big fish in a small pond eating all the other little fishes.” Will said bluntly. “But you should remember something about that…..”

“What?”

“That there is always something bigger and better that can eat you.” Will whispered. For a human, Hannibal’s reactions were hair triggered things, refined through years of practice and conditioning. They were nothing compared to the supernatural though, Hannibal finding himself pulled forward by his lapels and wrapped up in Will’s scaly coils, deadly spines mere inches from breaching his skin. Poison posed at every turn, Hannibal chose to remain very still, waiting to see what would happen.

“You’re so fragile. I could kill you without even really trying.” Will mused, leaning in the brush his lips against Hannibal‘s throat, trailing the kisses he had so newly learned to do and do well upward to the human‘s ear. 

“Are you?” Hannibal asked, more curious than frightened. He was beginning to wonder if he could even experience the latter emotion anymore. When the thought of your imminent death at the hands and teeth of a monster didn’t even frighten you, what left was there in the world to do so? 

Will only smiled in the answer, the expression as deep and fathomless as the ocean the creature was stolen from. Pressing a kiss to Hannibal’s lips, the merman’s sighed, knowing that what he was capable of doing, what all his kind lived to do. Nothing tasted sweeter than desperation mingled with fear. Nothing was more tender than drowned meat. 

Except for the warmth coming off of Hannibal’s skin, and the press of his plaint flesh against Will’s scaled own, the merman kissing the captured human slow, sweet, and deep.

Pearls, pure white and flawless, fell onto Hannibal’s suit to get caught in the creases and crevices of it as Will wept into the kiss. Tears were a rare thing from his kind, but merman’s heart was an even rarer thing to lay claim to. Hannibal had done so though, and all Will could do was kiss in answer and cry from the terrible knowledge of it. 

The merman knew he would never see the ocean again, or feel the bliss of real salt water upon his skin other than from his own eyes before it solidified. 

OoOoO

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Your comments try to figure out how to do the butt thing with a merman. Your Kudos call out helpful suggestions as they eat people pate cause all the food is people. Even the damn poptarts. YES, EVEN THE FUCKING POPTARTS. DON'T QUESTION IT!


	8. All good things must come to their end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alana and Bedelia pop by with some grave consequences. Thing get worse before they get better.  
> Last chapter of the series.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for following and supporting this story. You have all been lovely, so thank you for that. You all made it worth writing.

Will loved buttons.

Hannibal knew this by how the merman stared at them. The suit he wore today was fresh from his tailor, and what he would be wearing at his latest dinner party, the event already fully booked. It would be a grand affair featuring a theme of earth and sky for the entrees of hippogriff, rainbow nymphs, and earth angels. 

His suit was a confection of purple and blue plaid, the blending color scheme intense and sumptuous, accented with gold buttons. Merfolk loved their gold, but Will seemed particularly intrigued by the concept of them. He looked like he aimed to misbehave about it too, his stormy blue eyes fixed on the dance and play of light on the metal. 

Summoned up like a creature from the deep, the merman was already swimming to the surface, climbing out of his tank, and into his chair with his tail curled tightly around it. He used the stability of his positioning to lean up as far as he could to grab for Hannibal who kept well out of his reach. 

“Please control yourself. I would prefer this outfit not to be stained with salt water…..or torn apart by your enthusiasm.” Hannibal smiled, carefully catching the merman’s hands to kiss the backs of them.

Keeping still, Will let Hannibal lave his tongue up his wrist and further up over the spray of scales that decorated his arms like a bejeweled pattern. Belated, Hannibal realized that he had gotten too close, the merman using his superior speed and barbed fingertips to snag a button off of the man’s waistcoat. 

Extras were always included and buttons were easy enough to sew on so Hannibal sighed as he let the decoration go, Will curling up in his chair to stare at his prize.

“It has little pictures on it.” Will said, turning the button over and over in dark hands so that it caught the light. Hannibal took the initiative of stripping out of his coat so that he could start preparing their dinner. 

The front door chime sounding made both beings look up in surprise, no appointments or dinners scheduled for this evening. Sighing, Hannibal shooed the merman back into his tank, Will taking his stolen button with him. Throwing a black covering over the tank, Hannibal shrugged back into his coat so see who was calling on them, unannounced and uninvited. 

The incident with Abigail had made Hannibal take some precautions. If anyone turned up at his door, Hannibal would simply cover the tank. Anyone who was intimate enough to be invited inside his house was either a fellow chef, a patron of their strange arts, or a provider for the feasts themselves. Everyone was in on the game so it wouldn’t be suspicious for him to have something live in his kitchen awaiting its fate or him wanting to keep it secret. 

Will didn’t like it, but he knew it was in his best interest to keep silent. In the dark, Will curled up sullenly into a ball, and kept his ears open. He would be ready if Hannibal needed his help. 

OoOoO

“Do you have an appointment?” 

Hannibal tapped down his dismay upon finding Alana Bloom and Bedelia Du Mauier on his stoop.

“Do you have a beer?” was Alana’s cheeky answer, a wide smile on her gorgeous face. Hannibal made himself mirror the expression at his associates. The two woman were the closest things he had to as professional rival or any sort of competition. Bedelia owned and operated a similar concept, but only served the magical flora, not the fauna, a vegetarian restaurant of the supernatural called Belladonna. The entire idea of it tended to make Hannibal ill whenever he thought about it for too long.

“Please come in.” Hannibal invited, knowing he couldn’t turn them away without coming off as suspicious. Tongues would wag and not in the right way.

“How have you been, Hannibal? It’s been a while.” Bedelia inquired in that clinically cool tone of hers that could mean anything and nothing. 

“Yes. It has. I fear I have been quite busy of late.” Hannibal said, trying to charm his guests to watch it fall flat like it usually always did with Bedelia. The woman could have been carved from ice, and she was one of the few people Hannibal actually respected. He could have love her once for it, but they were too similar in all the wrong ways. They were also adverse that way too. 

Alana was another story all together. Bright, intelligent, fearless, and not afraid to be feminine yet assertive, she was an unique as Bedelia yet opposite in some many different ways. She and Hannibal could have been an affair, but she was far too independent for anything long lasting. Taming her might have broken what was best about her, and Hannibal thought the world was better with her in it as is. Knowing he had to be first in a relationship, Hannibal was unwilling to be anyone’s passing flight of fancy. 

“So what are you working on?” Alana grinned, following Hannibal into the kitchen while Bedelia chose to stay in the sitting room. Alana felt far more comfortable here than her lover, having once been Hannibal’s sous chef. She found her hand smacked with the flat of a knife just like old times when she reached for a pot’s lid. 

“No peeking. You had your chance.” Hannibal reprimanded with a smile as he handed her a tall glass of dark beer. 

“Don’t be bitter.” Alana laughed before taking a deep sip of her private stock. In her opinion, Hannibal made the best beer, but still refused to tell her his secret brewing ingredient. She hadn’t been able to find out even while working under him.

“I don’t blame you for following your heart…” Hannibal said good naturedly. Alana had been his favorite protégé. She had also been his last after Alana left him to go study under Bedelia. “…..even if it was into the arms of my rival.”

“What’s this?” Alana asked, nodding toward the covered tank.

“You know I don’t care to repeat myself.” Hannibal told her in a stern tone, looking over at her coolly. Shrugging but properly admonished, Alana walked away from the tank to lean up against the kitchen island by the built in range. She seemed determined to find out what was in that pot. Her curiosity amused Hannibal, who wouldn’t tell her for the world tell it was just water he was planning to boil up some pasta in. 

“Just asking. The worse you can say is ‘no’.” Alana mused, making Hannibal chuckle who knew from personal experience that wasn’t true.  
Planning to wait until Hannibal was occupied with ingredients again, Alana planned her move to try and look in the pot. Something smelled usually strange in his kitchen. Salty but not unpleasantly so. 

It was all a case of mistiming really when Hannibal thought back on it. A spot of moisture from Will’s tail, Alana’s high heels slipping at the worst possible moment, positioning of everything in the kitchen at that point in time, it was all those little things that added up to an accident. 

Alana leaned in to look when Hannibal’s back was turned causing her heel to slip, the woman falling forward. She caught herself in time, but her arm knocked into the pot of boiling water, sending it flying across the smooth range and straight at Hannibal who was in mid turn with ingredients in hand. Ever brilliant, Hannibal knew it would be too late for him to save himself so he braced for the inevitable pain. So he was quite surprised when the water turned to sprays of pearls, hitting his face and suit instead of searing hot water. 

Even more startling was the tendrils of water which tore the covering on the tank into ribbons, revealing a furious merman. The ropes of sharp water streaked toward Alana, fast and deadly, their intent clear if they met her flesh. Hannibal’s honed reflexes reacted in time for him to move beyond shock and disbelief, the chef flinging himself in front of Alana in time. The water saturated his new suit, but did little else other than that.

“Oh my god! What is that!?” Alana screamed, turning in Hannibal’s arms in time to see a very angry merman climbing out of his very open tank.

The merman’s spines were no less impressive out of the water, standing up like draped spears tipped in poison coming out of his back. His barbed fingertips gouged grooves into the tile as he crawled toward them. His eyes were black as pitch and his teeth were bared, standing out sharp and serrated in his inhuman face. 

The situation complicated itself further as Bedelia entered the kitchen, called forth by Alana’s screaming and all the other noise.

“Oh!” Bedelia gasped. Such a reaction coming from her was actually quite a lot. Will paused to snarl at her, but kept right on coming, maiming and murder the focus of his mind and instinct. 

“Everyone calm down!” Hannibal told the room sternly, coming as close to yelling as he ever did. Shoving Alana into Bedelia and both woman out of the kitchen, Hannibal turned smoothing in place to face the enraged merman denied his kill.

“Will. Stop.” Hannibal ordered, kneeling down to keep the merman from following after the woman, even though it put him well within reach of fingertips that could shred his skin into ribbons. 

Snapping his teeth to let out an incensed symphony of clicks and squeals, Will complained loudly at Hannibal, but controlled himself to an extent. His tail bashed against the island to dent the surrounding wood and metal, cracking the tile beneath them from the force of it. 

“Will……Will…..shhhhhhh, dear one.” Hannibal murmured softly, holding his hands out with his palms flat. Eventually the spines lowered and Will’s eyes cleared to their grey blue beauty. When the merman started to tremble in place, Hannibal reached for Will to pet his dark ringlets, dripping salt water onto his ruined floor. Hannibal listened to Will’s tears hit the broken tile in soft pings, and the women calling him through the door.

OoOoO

“ It was unfortunate you had to see that.” was what Hannibal said as he came through the door, making sure to close it firmly behind him

“I’m a little take aback. No, a lot taken aback. What the hell was that? Why was that…..was that thing able to get out of its cage?!” Alana yelled. “And don’t tell us it was a mistake! You don’t make those kind of mistakes.”

“I think it would be best if you leave. Now.” Hannibal told them, leaving no room for argument and giving no explanation.

Well into her temper, Alana stormed out of his house, leaving Bedelia to stare at him with those cold blue eyes of hers. Watching Alana’s back until the sight of it was gone, Hannibal turned to find Bedelia studying him. 

“Hannibal….You can not keep him.” Bedelia said calmly in a grave sort of tone, reminding Hannibal why she was one of his favorite people. Calm, cool, and collected, she saw everything for what it was, stripping it down to bare bones with logic and inborn cunning. “It’s unnatural for the both of you, detrimental even. You can not form a healthy relationship with a creature who is removed from the concept as a man who is also removed from the concept.”

“It feels like I am failing him if I let him go.” Hannibal said softly. He was feeling pain, deep and low in his gut, but he knew she was right. It was the searing sort of hurt, like he was being burned from the inside out meticulously slow. 

“What you are feeling is love or a spectrum of it. Stop what you are doing with this creature, and do what is right for the both of you while you still can.” Bedelia pressed, giving Hannibal a stern look before she left, her heels making a sharp clicking noise. 

They left Hannibal alone with his new realizations, and he let them go. 

OoOoO

“I shouldn’t have attacked her. I’m sorry.” Will said as soon as Hannibal reentered the kitchen. The merman could tell something was wrong. Hannibal’s face was a closed off thing, the human wearing his mask firmly back in place. It frightened Will to see it there again.

Ignoring the merman’s wavering tone and scared look, Hannibal busied himself by cleaning up his kitchen. He knew he was avoiding the issue at hand, fortifying himself to address it proper like as he finished his task. Things needed to be set in motion immediately if he was going to do this, even if it was with a heavy heart and a mind full of regret.

“I will be contacting Gideon and his crew. If all goes well, they should be here first thing in the morning.” Hannibal told the merman, his tone sounding calm yet lifeless. He could move, leave Baltimore. He was rich enough with no family left alive to ask any questions about it. His acquaintances were few, and he owed them nothing in way of explanation. He could buy a house by an ocean, live right off the shore.

But……

Will would always be a secret, something he would always have to hide, and then there were the other aspects of his own life he needed to keep concealed. He couldn’t hunt in a small town where any death would be too noticeable. Hannibal needed to live and pursue his type of prey in the city to escape notice, and an audience, unwilling or not, to view his ‘art‘. 

“Why would you call them?” Will whispered, holding onto the frame of the tank to keep from sinking up the surface. He suddenly felt so heavy it was painful.

“I’m letting you go. I will make sure they take you back from where they pulled you from.” Hannibal said, watching as Will’s face shattered with an array of emotions. Joy, sorrow, disbelief, confusion, and so much more were beautiful to watch as they were revealed melting and mingling into one another. 

“Have I insulted you or burdened you with my presence?” Will had to focus on making the words come out as clearly as possible. Everything in his mouth and throat felt too thick to work properly, like his gills were swollen and pressing in to suffocate him. 

“No, not at all. This is for the best. For the both of us.” Hannibal murmured. The merman sounded so broken and lost. It was difficult for him to remain unaffected by it.

“Why? So I can be alone again? So you can be alone again? I don’t accept that. Don’t tell me that you don’t feel the same way. I know you do.” Will snapped, his tail bashing against the side of the tank to spray water across the kitchen. 

“You are mistaken.” Hannibal stated, not letting the merman’s truth take the chill out of his words. He watched as Will seemed to collapse into himself, hope and defiance withering away on his face. 

“Please don’t lie to me. We promised to be honest with one another.” Will begged. He was not above that. Merfolk were prideful but Will was willing to implore, to debase himself for what he thought was important. 

“Will, would you truly be happy spending the rest of your life living in a tank in my kitchen? To never see the ocean again? Think carefully before you answer and choose your words wisely.” Hannibal said, going for the throat of the matter to snap its neck.

Staring back, Will could feel the blow of Hannibal‘s words. The thought of returning home to the deep blue sent his mind reeling. He could be free again. Free to move about as he was meant to do. He could go home to be with his Father Sea and Mother Moon at long last, to not hear their laments whispering to him in the dark. His parental gods wept for their lost son. 

“And we have our answer.” Hannibal broke the silence between them. “Are you hungry? Would you like me to make you anything?”

“No thank you. I’ve seem to have lost my appetite.”” Will said miserably, letting go of the tank’s framework to sink lifelessly to the bottom. His body landed heavily, weighted down by his sorrow. 

“As have I.” Hannibal said softly, finding he could no longer stand to be in his own kitchen, not while the merman was still there. He had phone calls and demands to make anyway. Chilton’s replacement Gideon would be easy enough to pay off into keeping this task secret from beginning to finish. 

“Goodnight, dear one.”

oOo

The shattering of something expensive and fragile woke Hannibal up from a dead sleep, the chef turned predator smoothly rolling out of his bed. People mistook his love for silk as decadent, the real reason behind it was that silk absorbed sound. Seeing perfectly well in the dark and quite familiar with the layout of his own house, Hannibal strode confidently through shadow filled hallways, palming the knives he kept hidden under his pillow. The pair of small steel blades were matte black and sharp enough to carve designs into feathers. 

Despite the origin of the noise coming from his dining room, Hannibal went through the kitchen first because Will……If anything were to happen to him…….Hannibal tried not to think about it as he slipped down the side stairs that exited out into his kitchen, silent as any shade. 

To his immediate horror, Hannibal saw that the tank stood barren of its inhabitant, the water illuminated silver by moonlight. More noise coming from the dining room area caught Hannibal’s attention, the killer stalking forward on silent footpads. He didn’t bother with light, having no intention of scaring away the intruder. Anyone stupid enough to break into his home was destined for his freezer, not the mercy of a prison cell. 

Hannibal kept to the shadows which turned out to be almost his undoing when he nearly face planted, tripping over something unexpected on his floor. Honed reflexes were the only thing that kept Hannibal standing as he peered down at the unexpected obstacle.

It was rendered meat left out in the open to rot. Blood pooled beneath it in foul clotting lakes, stinking metallic and maritime as it dried. A chill settled over Hannibal’s skin as he recognized the torn up flesh as Will’s tail, jaggedly ripped apart and split done the middle, the midnight opal scales scattered about, its beauty ruined by carelessness and cruelty. 

Whoever had broken into his house had decided to butcher off Will’s tail and leave it in his dining room as a message. Staring down at what was left of the merman’s lower half, Hannibal felt cold externally while internally white hot plasma replaced his blood with rage. Supernatural creature or not, there was no way Will could have survived that kind of maiming. 

The freezer was too good a destination for this killer. Whoever had done this was going to suffer. By the time Hannibal was finished with them, death would seen and begged for as a blessed reprieve. 

The intruder’s noises were coming from the sitting room now. From their careless nature of knocking into things, Hannibal could only surmise that they were having some difficulty carrying out the rest of Will’s corpse or the merman had injured them grievously before his demise.

Assuming the latter, Hannibal followed sporadic pools of liquid like dark mirrors. It was a trail to his quarry who stood not too far from him now, the dead man walking leaning heavily up against a wall. The void figure was outlined in silvery moonlight, giving away his position perfectly. Hannibal planned his next movements with the intent of incapacitating instead of outright killing the person when a soft whisper made him freeze mid-action. 

“Hannibal?” the figure said as it turned toward him, promptly falling over from the action, which was only to be expected. It was his first time walking after all. Hannibal turned on the lights to find Will lying on his sitting room floor, covered in blue blood and other viscera with legs falling to the side uselessly. 

“Will! What have you done!?” Hannibal said as he pocketed the blades, moving to kneel beside the former merman while ignoring the gore that soaked into his bedclothes. 

“You were going to make me leave so I decided to change your mind.” Will laughed, the noise of it pain filled as he rocked in place, trying to sit up. He managed it with Hannibal’s help, the man moving to sit behind the former merman so that he could rest his now smooth back to the chef’s front.

“But…..how…..?” Hannibal asked, examining the merman turned human with a professional eye. Everything about him seemed normal, smooth pale skin covered in drying filth but otherwise unblemished. 

“The lack of iron helped. I got a lot of my strength and magic back after you did away with it.” Will said. Hannibal’s hands were upon his face, feeling his forehead. They felt cool against his strange new skin.

“You have a fever.” Hannibal informed him.

“What’s that?” Will laughed. Maneuvering himself, Hannibal scooped Will up into his arms easily, the former merman offered little in the way of protest. Carrying his burden easily up the stairs, Hannibal took Will to his own personal bathroom. He didn’t bother to undress as they entered the shower, too busy propping Will up as they were both pelted by cold water. 

“Oh….that feels good.” Will moaned, turning his face toward the stream.

“Does it?” Hannibal asked, trying to ignore how Will’s moaning was affecting him. 

“Water has never felt cold to me before, at least not like this. It feels different. Does it always feel this way to you? So separate?” Will groaned out the words.

Hannibal didn’t know what to make of that question. “Will, I need you to focus. How long will you remain like this?”

“As long as you’ll have me.” Will told him, his tone tentative and almost shy as if he thought there was a chance that Hannibal might not want him like this.

“You’ve given up a lot to be with me.” Hannibal said, wishing to relieve Will of such an absurd notion. 

“I like to think I’m gaining more in return.” Will said softly. He was turned around to face Hannibal, the man’s eyes darkly blown from lust and a desire that made him look almost feral. 

Hannibal pressed up roughly against Will who winced as their groins collided. “Damn you’re right. That is uncomfortable.” he muttered, remembering past explorations of Hannibal’s lower anatomy. 

“It gets better.” Hannibal promised, his smile slow and wicked.

“Show me.” Will panted out.

That was all it took, Hannibal hauling them out of the shower, barely remembering to grab a towel in time to dry Will off as he stripped down. They were both reasonably dry by the time their bodies hit his mattress. 

Seeing the former merman writhe around on his bed, feeling silk for the first time against his skin, was a glorious sight Hannibal would remember with perfect clarity till his dying day. He fell forward on top of Will to cage the merman within his arms and legs. 

“I feel strange.” Will told him helplessly, gasping for air but not in the usual way. His gills were gone now to be replaced fully with lungs, and yet he was still having trouble breathing. Hannibal seemed to be having that effect on him, especially when the man started to kiss him, his lips traveling where they liked, nibbling his way down a pale throat to Will’s chest past his belly, and all the way down to his groin to tangle his hands in the newly formed curls there. 

Arching his back, Will cried out as his sex was consumed, Hannibal taking Will’s length into his mouth until the rosy head of it hit the back of his throat. Eyes watering but keeping his greedy mouthful in place, Hannibal sucked and licked at the virgin flesh, knowing that he could overwhelm Will.

The taste of bitter salt proved that, Will screaming out his first orgasm as a human, the pleasure torn out from his new flesh by Hannibal’s mouth, precise suction, and a busy tongue. 

Swallowing before he could really properly taste the merman’s seed, Hannibal continued to clean the oversensitive tip, lapping up every last drop of pearly fluid. Will’s cry were sweet to hear even if his seed was strangely bitter in taste, almost like spilled tears and seaweed. 

The impromptu feast didn’t settle well in Hannibal’s stomach, the chef falling back as a sharp cramp made his entire body coil in pain. Breaking out into a cold sweat, Hannibal curled up into a fetal position to try and keep himself together, the pain in his gut radiating out from his center all the way down to his toes and fingers.

“Shhhh….It will be over soon.” were words the spoken by Will and only vaguely heard by Hannibal through his pain riddled fog. 

“What’s happening….to…me?” Hannibal pushed the words out through clenched teeth, his accent making them sharp. He could feel himself losing consciousness fast, the man fighting against himself to stay awake just a little while longer as every cell seemed to turn against him. 

“What happens to anyone who consumes one of my kind? I wasn’t lying when I told you our flesh can grant death or immortality. It all just depends on how it is taken, from what part of the flesh you receive sustenance from.” Will whispered, humming under his breathe when he was done explaining. He didn’t like to see his mate in pain, but it was necessary, especially if Hannibal was going to join him. Though they could live up on land, merfolk were always fated to return to their real home, Will seeing no real reason to stay here. Being on land was so limiting and too many humans knew about him.

Feeling relaxed from giving Hannibal his greatest gift and stronger now that he’d had time to rest, Will picked Hannibal up off the bed, his mate plaint and easier to manage now that he had passed out from the pain. He would need to get Hannibal into the tank, and have everything ready for transport by the time Gideon’s men came in the morning for a merman. Will doubted that they would recognize him like this, and even if they did, Will had no issue with killing them. Even in his human form, Will still have most of his powers, yet foul iron had no control over him.

Slipping an unconscious Hannibal into the salt water to help along his transformation, Will wondered what color tail his mate would have as he watched the new merman‘s gills begin to form behind his ears and Hannibal take his first breathes underwater. 

Will was patient. He could wait. He had waited this long and come this far to find his mate, further than most. He could do so a little longer. 

Singing to himself, Will made one last cappuccino in Hannibal‘s kitchen as he waited for dawn to break.

OoOoO

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Your comments sing to the moon in thanks. Your kudos play in the sea.
> 
> As Will always suspected, Hannibal made a gorgeous merman. His tail was scarlet that deepened into a rich purple at the end of his fins and back spines. He looks like a creature made of ruby and amethyst accented with bright gold spotting that ran down his sides. He moved gracefully through the water, effortless in his movements as a shark. Will couldn't have asked the moon for a more beautiful or devoted mate.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Hannibal is considering eating your comments for dinner. Persuade him not to. Or don't. Poor Will, I have a bad feeling that he is so screwed.
> 
> Or perhaps not.....


End file.
